Something about love
by Idun03
Summary: Having discovered his brother's affair with the Spartan queen, Prince Hector is forced to confront his past and remember his encounter with a woman who changed his ways forever. LAST CHAPTER AND EPILOGUE!
1. Default Chapter

**Author's note: **This is a story about Hector's life before he had a family of his own. Most of the story is set as a "flashback" of some events that took place several years before the war with the Greeks. I wanted to show some things about Hector's background and why he has become the man he is.

After a lot of thinking; I decided to choose PG-13 for this story, but it's possible that the rating will go up. If you read the story I will be happy and if you give me some feedback, I'll be even happier.

**Prologue**

Prince Hector of Troy resolutely clamped into his narrow cabin and slammed the door behind him. The dull movements of the ship seemed to be in agreement with the rush of the blood inside his veins. He forced himself to aim his eyes at a point on the wall for a moment as he took a few very deep breaths. Slowly, he felt his body relaxing slightly.

Sighing, he moved to the wooden table that was placed under the small window. His throat felt raw and he had a taste of bile in his mouth. Slowly, he lifted an earthenware jar and poured himself a cup of water. He slowly drank, hoping that the liquid would also cool his emotions.

This sort of wrath was uncharacteristic for the prince. Despite being a formidable warrior, he was known for his mild and controlled personality outside the battlefield. He always kept his head cool and he never let his feelings run away with him.

But there were a few things that could upset him and throw him out of balance. He hated it, but there seemed to be no way to control it. There was one thing in particular that could infuriate him. Or one _person, _more likely.

The thought of it sent a new wave of fury through Hector's body and in a fit of rage he slammed his fist into the table, almost causing the jar to fall over.

"Damn him to Hades!" he hissed silently. "Why does he always have to bring me into his antics?" And this time it wasn't just him, it was about their country and their people. All because of one man's foolishness.

The memory of his conversation with Paris on the boat deck rang again and again in his ears.

"_You fool! Do you know what you have done? Do you know how many years our father worked for peace?"_

_Despite facing the wrath of his older brother, Paris looked calm. His eyes were frightened but his tone of voice was composed. "I love her," he said simply._

_Hector snorted loudly and scowled at his brother. "It's all a game to you, isn't it?" he asked in disbelief. "You roam from town to town, bedding merchants' wives and temple maids and you think you know something about love?"_

Hector closed his eyes and shook his head. Stupid boy, he thought to himself. Stupid thoughtless boy. Did he understand what was at stake here? Did he understand what he was risking?

"_What about your father's love? You spat on him when you brought her on this ship! What about the love for your country? You would let Troy burn for this woman?" _

Suddenly and completely unexpectedly, Hector felt a sting of guilt. He tried to shake it off. Paris had been wrong; he had deserved everything his brother had thrown in his face up on that deck. He had forgotten his duties for the sake of a pair of pretty eyes and an imagined infatuation. He had acted like a spoiled brat and threatened to bring misery upon his country with his actions.

_What right do you have to judge? _

Hector tried to push away the quiet and still very irritating question from his mind. He had no reason to feel bad. He had not done anything wrong. Unlike Paris', his conscience was clear. But was it really that simple?

No, he realized. Things were never that simple. Sighing, he settled down by the table. He was an honest man, brutally honest, he sometimes thought and unlike many other men, Hector was able to stand up for his mistakes. The righteous anger he had felt just a few moments ago suddenly seemed hollow.

What sort of right did he have to condemn his brother, when he had once committed almost exactly the same crimes? Maybe not in the same way, but still... Had he not once risked his duty, his father, his country and his people too? Had he not once been just as young, naive and hopelessly in love?

"_I have killed men; I have watched them dying and I have heard them dying and there is nothing glorious about it. Nothing poetic. You say you want to die for love, but you know nothing about dying and you know nothing about love!"'_

All of Hector's anger had left his body. The memory seemed to mock him. What a hypocrite he was, he grimly realized.

His thoughts were far away as he went to the window and looked out over the clear blue sea. Troy was many miles away but in his mind, he was already there. This would end in a bad way. You didn't steal a king's wife unpunished. His country and his people would suffer, he knew that. Yes. He _knew. _

Standing face to face with your destiny can be a frightening thing, but Hector was not afraid for himself. Well, maybe he was, but not nearly as much as he feared for those that he loved.

Uninvited, the memories came over him. He made a face. He didn't want to think about it, but he realized that he had no other choice. He felt something ache slightly inside him as he travelled back in time to face her once again...


	2. Chapter 1 A memory woken

**Chapter 1 – A memory woken**

_8 years previously_

Apollo's Lyre was one of the best taverns in Troy. Unlike many other drinking houses, the place was organized and well mannered. It would rarely attract any brawls or commotions. The food was fine and the supply of wine excellent. The serving maids were also a lot more discreet and tasteful. This was the place were the noble men of Troy would go when their throats became raw and they longed for a place of relaxation.

"Thank gods!" Paris exclaimed as he opened the doors with a bang and entered the main hall. "I was beginning to think we would never get away from that stuffed castle and those insufferable so called guests!"

Hector glared at his brother as they stepped into the tavern, wishing that Paris would keep his voice down. He didn't want to declare to the whole of Troy that King Priam's sons had run away from home.

Paris wanted to settle down close to the musicians, but Hector ordered him to find a place further inside the hall, where they would not attract attention. They managed to find an empty table and sat down, stretching their long legs.

They were followed by Captain Tecton, who according to Paris had come along to act as their "nursemaid". Tecton was a bald, muscular young man who had already made himself a position in the Apollonian guard, that were currently lead by King Priam's closest man, General Glaucus. Tecton was a promising young officer and if nothing befell him, he would most likely succeed as commander.

However, he would always stand under Hector's authority. As the king's son and heir, no military officer outranked him. He would lead Troy, her people and her armies in the future. It was a great privilege, but also a huge responsibility that Hector had carried on his shoulders since the day he was born. He knew that he had to live up to it and he worked hard to do so. Despite his twenty-four years, he was already the best horseman in the country and his skills in the arts of war were extremely promising, both when it came to fighting and to strategy plans. He knew that his father would depend on him.

The thought of Priam made Hector feel guilty. He glanced behind his shoulder. "I am still not sure if this was such a good idea," he muttered.

Paris raised his eyebrows. "Not such a good idea? Come brother, this is the best idea we have ever come up with."

Hector sighed. "Well, I am not surprised that you think so, Paris," he said grimly. "But our father might not agree with you."

"Not even father could protest," Paris assured him. "He wouldn't want his sons bored to death, would he?" he asked, grinning.

Hector sighed again and realized the pointlessness of the argumentation. Paris would never be reasonable. In his young brother's mind, the world was about one thing only; having a good time. Nothing else seemed to matter. Hector was Paris' brother but he often felt more like his father, or even grandfather.

But this time, he couldn't just blame Paris, he realized. He had been just as guilty of escaping from his duties as his brother had. Troy had been visited by peace envoys from Sparta; the country they had constantly been fighting these last years. Priam was eager to put an end to the conflict, but Hector doubted that he would ever make it. The Spartan messengers had been unspeakably dull, rude and pompous. Every word they said seemed like a poorly disguised insult. Hector had tried to keep his diplomatic courtesies as long as they remained in the castle, but it had proved impossible. Finally, he had been ready to throw up over their boots.

_I ran away from my duties, _he thought. _But what was I suppose to have done? I am only human. I am not perfect. Why does father expect me to be?_

He pushed the irritating thoughts away and tried to relax with his brother and his comrade. A short, pretty serving maid with raven hair provided them with jars of full, red wine. She bowed neatly to them, apparently noticing their expensive garments and hoping for a few coins.

"And where is the rest of it?" Paris asked her nonchalantly.

The girl looked taken aback. "The rest, my lord?" she repeated unsurely. "You have been given wine. Is it not enough for you?"

"_This?" _Paris gestured at the two full jars. "If you think this will do for our thirsty throats you have better think again, my sweet."

The girl blushed slightly. "Forgive me, my lord," she said in embarrassment. "I should have asked how much you required. I was being very neglectful."

"So you were," Paris agreed, smiling flirtingly at her. "However, I _might _forgive you if you do something about it this instant."

The girl nodded quickly. "I'll get you some more wine at once, my lords." She hurried off so quickly that she almost tripped on her long skirts. Paris chuckled slightly and Hector looked grimly at him.

"That was unnecessary," he said grimly.

"Was it?" Paris acted like he was surprised. "Don't tell me that you are content with this meagre amount of liquid?"

"I wasn't talking about the wine," Hector snapped. "If you really wanted more to drink, you could have asked for it, instead of seizing the moment to act like a spoiled child."

"Oh Hector, you..." Paris stopped and his eyes rounded. In puzzlement, Hector turned around to find out what he was staring at. "It seems that we were not the only people who grew weary of that banquet," Paris said knowingly.

Hector cursed silently. A well-dressed party of men had just entered the tavern and the innkeeper was busy clearing off a few tables to make place for them. They were all familiar. Their leader was Constantine, King Menelaus of Sparta's own cousin; a short man with tousled blonde hair, a gaudy taste in clothes and a particularly unpleasant character.

"Don't you think we should leave, my lord?" Tecton asked nervously. He knew very well that the young princes didn't have any high regard for the envoys from Sparta.

"Not yet," Paris protested. "They won't see us if we keep ourselves at this distance. Besides, they'll soon be too drunk to notice anything."

Hector frowned. He certainly didn't want to bump into the Greeks and be forced to sit with them. And he knew that they might tell Priam about his sons' lack of dutifulness. But on the other hand, he really didn't have any desire to go back to the castle yet. Better wait until people were asleep.

"We stay," he decided. "But, _don't _bring any attention to yourself," he said with a sharp glance in Paris' direction.

His brother made a face, but his face brightened when the young serving maid returned to their table. She had brought two new jars of wine with her and she was completely out of breath.

Hector took pity on her and thanked her when she filled his cup. Paris on the other hand seemed to enjoy teasing her. "This is your best, I suppose?" he said as he lifted the cup to his lips.

"Yes, my lord. The finest in Troy," she answered, but the sparkle in his eyes clearly made her uncomfortable.

"That's good," Paris grinned back. "I'll let you know when I need another filling up. Or perhaps you can offer me something even better?"

For a tavern wench, the girl seemed rather innocent and Paris' blatant invitation made her cheeks crimson. "My lord, I... I am not sure I understand what you mean."

"Don't you?" Paris raised his eyebrows to her. "Then you could use a lesson, my dear. I could show you..."

"Paris," Hector sharply interrupted. He had had enough of watching Paris torment the poor girl. "My brother is just jesting," he assured her. "And he won't require anymore wine. As I am sure you can tell, he is merely a little boy who shouldn't drink strong drinks."

He brought a few coins from the pocket of his jacket and pressed them into her hand. "Thank you for your services," he said politely. The girl watched him for a moment with her wide, blue eyes and then she glanced down at his generous gift. Wordlessly, she curtsied and left their table.

When she had left, Hector turned back to his brother, scowling. "I can't remember, are you seven or seventeen, Paris?" he asked him frostily.

Paris rolled his eyes. "For gods' sake, Hector, I was just having a little bit of fun. There was no harm in it. She didn't take offence-"

"Maybe she didn't," Hector snapped. "But that's not the point. I don't enjoy watching my brother making a fool of himself, especially not in front of a young woman."

"He has got about as much spirit as a dead ewe, doesn't he?" Paris told Tecton, who looked embarrassed. "All he ever does is to preach about every single thing I do."

"I am not preaching for the fun of it, Paris," Hector growled. "And I wouldn't have to preach _at all_ if you would only realize that you are a prince and start behaving like one."

Paris rolled his eyes. "My gods Hector, can't you ever relax? I am starting to believe that you prefer to bed horses before women."

Hector darkened. "Don't try to tell me about things you know nothing of," he said grimly.

"Perhaps you are saving yourself?" Paris smirked. "What's the name of that princess again?"

Hector glared at his brother. "Andromache. And you know that very well."

"Oh yes, I remember," Paris said smiling. "Father wants the wedding to take place quite soon doesn't he?"

Hector felt like he could cheerfully strangle his brother. He knew just were to hit. "So what if he does?" he flatly asked.

Paris chuckled, enjoying his brother's discomfort. "Scared to death, aren't you? Well, I can't say that I blame you. If it was me who would be forced to marry a horse-faced daughter of some ridiculous little king of Thebe..."

"Well, it isn't," Hector said. "It's me. I am the crown prince and you are nothing but a spoiled and empty-headed good for nothing. Let's just leave it at that."

"My lords," Tecton said before Paris could answer to Hector's statement. His eyes were on something behind Hector's back. The prince turned around.

The party of Spartans hade become louder and louder with the amounts of wine they had poured down their throats. The young girl that Paris had teased had been asked to serve them another round of drinks, but it seemed like Constantine of Sparta wanted more than wine from her.

He roughly grabbed the girl around her waist and pulled her into his lap to the sound of loud, drunk cheers from his men. The unprepared girl cried out and when the Spartan tried to kiss her, she dropped the jar of wine she held in her hand. The red liquid fell out over the envoy's expensive attire.

Cursing, he pushed the girl away so that she tripped and fell to the floor. When he realized the condition his clothes were in, he was sent into a fit of rage. The girl had tried to get back on her feet, but she raised her forearm to shield her face when the Spartan lifted his fist to strike her.

That was when Hector reached them. He quickly grabbed the man's arm and forced him to lower it. Constantine spun around and faced Hector. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What _do _you think you are doing?" His voice was shocked, like he couldn't believe that someone had actually dared to prevent him from taking care of his own concerns.

Hector ignored him and offered the girl his hand to help her up. "Are you all right?" he asked her in concern.

The girl looked almost as surprised as the Spartan. "My lord, I am sorry..." she stuttered. "I didn't mean to..."

"_You _have nothing to ask forgiveness for," Hector firmly assured her. He turned back to the Spartan. "You have treated the girl in a disgraceful way. I expect you to give her an apology."

The man blinked in disbelief; apparently far too drunk to recognize Hector. "I will not apologize to some little tavern wench." he snorted "Do you know who I am, boy? I am Constantine of Sparta, King Menelaus' own cousin."

"Yes, I thought I recognized you," Hector answered coldly.

"We are here to make peace and _this_ is how the Trojans show their good intentions? King Priam shall hear of this, I assure you..."

"I am sure he will," Hector interrupted. "But that will have to wait. First, you should tell this girl that you are sorry for what you did to her."

"Oh, you say so?" the Spartan said, his eyes dark with indignation.

"Surely you are not deaf, are you, my friend?" Paris interjected, stepping up behind his brother.

The table of Spartans had become dead silent. Constantine looked furious, but he was not blind and he couldn't help but notice that prince Hector was more than a head taller than himself. The odds would not favour him in a fight.

But he had all of his men behind him and besides, there were other ways but physical violence. The Spartan grabbed a cup from the table and threw its content in Hector's face.

Hector cleaned the wine off in irritation, but he was determined not to get provoked by this Spartan oaf. He was about to say something more when a furious Tecton suddenly attacked like a whirlwind. The princes' bodyguard could usually keep himself under control, but he would not stand by and watch as the king's son was humiliated. He flew at Constantin, grabbing his throat and sent him backwards over the table.

Hector didn't have the time to restrain Tecton before he received a punch against his forehead from another Spartan and fell to the ground. Pain exploded in his mind and fury came with it. Without a thought, he attacked the nearest man who looked Spartan.

"My lords, if you please..." he heard the innkeeper's desperate voice, but it was too late. By now, the entire tavern seemed to be involved in the brawl. Everyone was fighting and no one seemed to be able to tell who was friend or foe. Tables and benches were tipped over. Jars and cups were crushed; floods of wine fell out over the floor.

Hector crawled out from under a stack of senseless people. He could see Paris at the other end of the hall. His younger brother was up against three Greeks who looked like they were about to cut him open. Hector cursed himself for having included the boy in this fight. He should have kept him out of it. Tecton had Constantine by his throat and was shaking him savagely. He didn't seem to notice that Paris was in trouble. Quickly, Hector started to make his way through the mass of people, towards his brother.

But keeping himself out of the brawl was not an easy thing. He felt someone tugging his legs and he was pulled down to the floor. He didn't know whether the man who had attacked him was Spartan or Trojan and he had no means to find out. He could do nothing except trying to defend himself.

Suddenly, the aggressor was knocked down from behind and fell unconscious to the floor. Tecton gave Hector his hand and used his massive strength to pull him to his feet. The Captain's cheeks were red and his eyes were flashing with anger. "Are you all right, my lord?" he asked.

Hector nodded quickly. "I am fine. But Paris..." He glanced towards the other end of the hall, but he couldn't see his brother. "What..." he started.

"I am here, Hector," Paris voice suddenly said.

Hector and Tecton spun and found Paris standing right behind them. The prince was soaked and dirty and had a cut on his cheek, but otherwise, he seemed to be unharmed. "Good to see you alive, brother," he grinned.

Hector frowned in astonishment. "How did you get away from those Spartans? They looked like they were going to kill you."

"Oh, they probably were too," Paris answered nonchalantly. "Fortunately, I had some assistance." He made a gesture and Hector suddenly discovered that the young girl he had tried to protect from Constantine was standing right behind Paris. She looked cautiously at him.

"She emptied a waste pail over the heads of those Spartans when they were about to cut me open," Paris explained, laughing. "That took the mood out of them. It was really effective actually." He lifted his arm and breathed in the odour from his soaked sleeve. "So you can tell by the smell of me."

"I am sure it's no worse than your usual stench, Paris," Hector said dryly. Then he turned towards the girl. "I am very grateful for what you have done."

The girl looked embarrassed and blushed. "It was the least I could do after what you did for my sake, my lord," She said earnestly. "I am terribly sorry I brought this on you."

"You bear no blame," Hector assured her. He quickly gave her hand a squeeze. "I am in your debt. I won't forget it."

The girl looked at him, amazed and blushed even more. "You don't need to trouble yourself, my lord," she said and added. "I think you have better leave now before those Spartans will realize that you have left the fight."

She was right, Hector realized. Paris seemed like he wanted to protest, but he quickly dragged his brother towards the door, followed by Tecton. But before they had reached the exit, armed soldiers suddenly stepped into the inn. Hector recognized their armours. It was the apollonian city guard.

"All right, you drunkards!" the leader shouted. "For those of you who haven't yet lost your desire to blunder about, I can offer a warm and cosy cell in the dungeons of our lord, his grace King Priam."

"Dungeons!" Hector heard Constantine of Sparta's high voice shrieking from somewhere inside the tavern. "Is this the Trojan way of showing hospitality? Me and my good Spartan men just came here to enjoy ourselves a little and we were attacked and brutalized by some vile scoundrels!"

Constantine made his way towards the guards, whose leader looked slightly uncertain. "Which scoundrels are you talking about, my lord?"

Without hesitation, Constantine pointed at Hector, Paris and Tecton. "_Those _scoundrels. Carry out your duty immediately, soldier!"

Hector sighed to himself. Explaining this to his father would not be an enjoyable experience.


	3. Chapter 2 Punishments

**Chapter 2 - Punishments**

King Priam of Troy was standing in front of his throne. He was a tall man and still slender, despite his age. His arms were crossed over his chest and his posture was truly majestic. The expression of his face was completely flat, but his piercing eyes could cut through anyone.

Hector squirmed uncomfortably as he took his place before his father. He knew that he would get reproaches and even though he knew that he deserved it, the situation made him feel like a little boy. It was never a pleasant thing to be scolded by your father, but this was particularly disagreeable.

He had not been allowed to change and he was aware of his appearance. He was dirty and tousled and carried a large bruise under his eye. Paris on the other hand stunk like a pig, bled from a cut in his face and limped slightly. They hardly looked like you would expect from two young princes; rather like a couple of drunken beggars.

"I trust you have enjoyed yourselves tonight?" Priam asked his sons in a dry, melodic voice.

Hector blushed immediately. "Father, I..."

"Was the food in that tavern better than the one that was served in the castle, perhaps? Was that why you saw fit to leave the banquet?"

"It wasn't the food, it was the company," Paris started, but Hector shoved his elbow into his side to shut him up.

Paris raised his eyebrows. "Is it our Spartan guests you are referring to?"

Hector pulled a deep breath. "Father, we are both terribly sorry about what happened. It was never our intention to insult anyone. We only meant to have a moment of relaxation, nothing else."

Priam nodded thoughtfully. "That was a splendid excuse, my son. I shall remember to use it the next time you and your brother risk being thrown into the dungeon for drunkenness by the city guards."

His eyes were annihilating and Hector and Paris lowered their eyes. "Won't you at least let us explain what happened?" Paris asked their father.

"Explain?" Priam's eyes narrowed. "Can you tell me what there is to explain? What explanation will make up for a lost chance of peace between Troy and Sparta?"

"What?" Hector was stunned.

"Oh, yes," Priam assured him. "My attempts to calm Constantine's temper were in vain. He told me that he will be sailing back for Sparta at first light. He also mentioned that he would rather go for a visit in the kingdom of Hades' than he would set his foot in Troy again. I can only assume that he will tell King Menelaus the same."

Hector groaned silently and closed his eyes. He knew better than Paris what a blow this was, both for their father and for their country.

"I had expected my sons to behave in a diplomatic way to our guests," Priam coldly continued. "I had not expected them to try and kill them in a simple brawl at some cheap tavern in the city."

"Constantine deserved nothing better," Paris argued stubbornly. "If you had seen the way he behaved..."

"Paris," Hector interrupted him sharply. "Father is right. There is no excuse"

"I am glad you realize that, my son," Priam said acidly. "Because if you don't, you will not stay long on this throne when your time comes." His eyes were sharp. "As the older, I had expected you to act as a good example for your brother. Do you think that's what you did tonight?"

Hector had no words to defend himself with. In dejection, he shook his head.

Paris spoke up to defend his brother. "Father, it wasn't just Hector, I was just as..."

"Don't worry son, I'll come to you," Priam assured him coldly and turned back to Hector. "It seems like it's been time for you to start taking your duties as crown prince a bit more seriously."

"I'll do anything," Hector said immediately.

"That's the least I expect. A soon as possible, I intend to send a ship to Thebe."

Hector paled and he stared at his father. "Thebe," he repeated meekly.

"Like I said," Priam's tone of voice was sharp. "King Eetion's daughter is almost nineteen years old now. High time you start thinking about producing some heirs of your own."

Hector was silent and his face ghostly pale. He had expected a lot, but never this. Paris on the other hand couldn't keep a chuckle back. "Well, that's a punishment," he giggled. "The worst I can..."

"I am glad you like it Paris, since you will be the one travelling to Sparta to collect the young princess," Priam informed his youngest son.

Paris eyes almost jumped out of their sockets. His jaw fell down. "Me!" he choked.

"You, yes," Priam said coolly. "You didn't think you would get out of this unpunished, did you? Just because you are the younger doesn't mean that you can behave in any way you like."

"But... but I can't... I mean I don't..."

"A good time to start learning isn't it? The ship will be ready to sail in two days and you _will _go." Priam stated sternly. "And while you are in Thebe I hope you will behave like a proper prince and son of mine."

Paris simply shook his head. "But she is... She is _Hector's _bride, not mine!" His tone of voice was incredulous.

"Yes, that's true," Priam agreed. "Unfortunately, the Princess of Thebe doesn't have any sisters. Otherwise I think it would be a good idea to have you married to another daughter of King Eetion. Such a lady might have a very good influence on you."

Paris silenced, defeated. He and his brother glanced nervously at each other.

"And if you have nothing else to say," their father continued. "I suggest you go and get yourselves cleaned up. You stink worse than the incense in the temples."

Later the same night, the two brothers were walking through a corridor in the palace together. They had been given time to bath and change their clothes and were looking a good deal more proper than they had when they returned to the castle. However, their expressions were somewhat disheartened.

"This just isn't fair," Paris grumbled for the umpteenth time. "I have no desire to go on some stupid journey. It's all just a silly idea."

Hector felt it necessary to cheer his younger brother up. "Don't worry. I am sure you will be well received in Thebe. Besides, you'll get to see a little bit more of the world."

"Maybe," Paris mumbled grudgingly. Then he frowned. "Where exactly _is _Thebe?"

Hector stopped. "I have no idea," he admitted and they both started chuckling.

"Well, I suppose it can't be so bad," Paris said. "After all, I will only escort her here. Then she will be yours to deal with."

"You don't have to remind me of that, Paris," Hector said grimly.

"What was her name again?"

Hector sighed deeply. "Andromache. For gods' sake, how many times should I have to tell you that?"

Paris gave his brother a look of pity and patted his shoulder. "Let us at least hope that she is less hideous than her name."

"Paris..." Hector started wearily.

"What? All princesses are ugly and queens are even worse," Paris claimed. The he smiled lightly. "Well except for Briseis perhaps," he added, referring to their little cousin who was also living in the castle.

"Briseis isn't a princess," Hector reminded him.

"You see?" Paris asked triumphantly. "Take my word for it Hector. I have never met a pretty king's daughter in my life. Count yourself lucky if your lady's royal nose is less than three feet long."

"I hope you won't share those opinions when you are in Thebe," Hector said sourly. "It might be a good time to remind you that the princess has seven brothers and they might not like to hear you talking about their sister in that way."

"Well, I think they would agree with me, deep inside at least."

"Paris..." Hector sighed. "I have told you before: I don't care what she looks like. What I care about is what she is like."

"Like?"

"Her personality," Hector translated in annoyance. "If she is a woman of honour with a bright head and a good heart. That's what matters."

Paris looked as if he believed that his brother was raving.

"This is not some little adventure," Hector explained to him. "This woman is to be my queen one day, not just my wife. It is a matter of reason, not of..." He stopped himself.

"Love?" Paris finished, grinning slightly.

Hector didn't answer; he only nodded.

Paris' smile became affectionate. "I forgot what you are like, my brother," he said, adding: "Don't worry, I will go to Thebe and get your Princess Horse Face safely to Troy. And I am sure she is very honourable. She must be if she is going to be your wife."

Hector smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Be careful, Little brother," he said and embraced Paris. "Remember, I won't be there to protect you."

Despite Hector's words, he wasn't as confident as he wanted to seem. As he prepared himself for the night, he couldn't rid himself of the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He knew nothing about this Andromache that his father had betrothed him to and the thought of marrying a complete stranger was enough to make him nervous. It annoyed him. No woman had ever had that power over him before.

Being the Prince of Troy, Hector had always been courted by various women from different classes in society. With few exceptions, they all seemed to like his appearance and his ways. And he had not been abstemious. He had never been a womanizer in the same way as Paris already showed signs of becoming, but there had been some women who had won a place in his life and in his bed.

Still, he had never really been able to let the women close to him. There was always a certain distance in his attitude and his way of speaking to them. He never really seemed to be able to let go of his duties and his seriousness.

But with this woman; this Princess of Thebe, things would be different. She would be his wife, his crown princess, hopefully the mother of his children... He would _have _to let her close to him whether he wanted to or not.

He swallowed tightly. His throat felt constricted. He was the bravest warrior in Troy, the best ride, the fierce and courageous crown prince. But it didn't matter.

He_ was_ scared to death.


	4. Chapter 3 A new acquaintance

**Chapter 3 – A new acquaintance**

"Please Hector, can't I come with you?" the ten year old girl begged him.

The prince shook his head. "I am sorry, but you can't. You know that your uncle doesn't want you running around in the streets."

"But I'll be good, I promise!"

"You are still too young for these sorts of rides, you'll have to wait," Hector told her gently and laughed as he saw a sulky look cross her face. "And don't give me those eyes, Briseis. It won't do you any good."

His young cousin pouted slightly, but she was a cheerful child and couldn't stay sullen for a long time. "Will you be back before nightfall?"

"I hope so," Hector told her. "But I really have to let my grey mare stretch out. She has been standing alone in the stables for too long by now."

Briseis nodded. "Well, be careful then. I hope Apollo will keep his hand over you."

"Thank you," he answered and couldn't help smiling at the girl's fascination with the gods. "Good bye then."

The stable boys had already prepared his horse and Hector inspected her critically. She looked well enough, but her voluminous belly told him that she had been given too much to eat. He would have to work hard to get her back into shape.

He sighed to himself as he led the mare towards the castle gates. The day was windy and the sand hit her in the eyes. She neighed worriedly and Hector had to calm her down. This was not the best weather to go for a ride in. Still, it felt very good to be outside the walls again.

These last few weeks, his father had piled his son with tasks and duties that had to be taken care of and he had barely been given a moment's rest. It was a part of the punishment, Hector knew it. And even though he missed his horses and his fighting lessons, he never complained.

He missed his brother. Paris had been gone for almost two weeks by now, but no one knew when he would return. Return in the company of... "Oh my gods," Hector mumbled to himself. "Help me..."

"What did you say, my lord?"

Hector stared at the mare, momentarily wondering if he had lost his mind. Then he realized that he had been addressed by a young woman who had been walking on the other side of the horse's neck.

"Nothing," he quickly tried to explain. "I was just talking to myself."

"Oh, well, if you say so, my lord," the girl said insecurely.

She was looking strangely at him and Hector realized that she was pondering whether or not she would consider him a raving madman. "I mean it," he said, slightly embarrassed. "I was just distracted. It was..."

He stopped as he realized that he recognized the girl. He didn't know where he had met her, but something about her eyes and face was distinctly familiar. Before he had been given time to ask her where he had seen her before, the girl's eyes rounded.

"Oh, it's you," she mumbled and quickly curtsied before him.

Then Hector realized that she was the girl from tavern who had saved Paris from the Spartans. "We met at Apollo's Lyre a few weeks ago, didn't we?" he asked her and the young woman nodded. Hector frowned. "I am sorry, but I don't think I ever caught your name."

"It's Lena, my lord," she answered politely. She was dressed in a modest blue dress with a black cloak over. She had pulled the hood up to cover herself from the storm, but a few strays of raven hair had released themselves and fell down into her sun kissed face.

"Lena," Hector said smiling. "Well, my name is..."

"Oh, I know who you are, my lord," the girl said, smiling shyly. "I knew that from the first moment I saw you at the tavern."

"Did you?" He was surprised. He certainly didn't boast with his title.

"Of course," the girl answered. "Everyone in Troy knows their prince by sight."

"Oh." Hector couldn't help feeling embarrassed and quickly changed the subject. "So what brings you to the castle if I may ask?"

A look of melancholia crossed the girl's face. "I came to ask if I could get an employment in the kitchens, but unfortunately they didn't need any more help."

"Have you been fired from Apollo's Lyre?" Hector asked, worried that her part in the brawl with the Spartans had gotten her into trouble.

Lena shook her head, smiling sadly. "No, my lord," she said. "But I am afraid the money I make in the tavern is not enough so I need another source of income. My..." She stopped, blushing slightly. "My... man does not seem to be able to keep his work no matter where he is engaged." She shrugged. "So I have more than one mouth to feed."

Hector nodded. He watched her closely and realized that she was looking very tired. The girl was probably working hard and whatever useless boy she was sharing her life with was no help to her. He felt sorry for her and tried to think of a way to help her.

"I shall talk to the head of the kitchen," he promised her. "I am sure we can find a place for you."

The girl's cheeks crimsoned slightly. "That's very kind of you, my lord," she said. "But I will not accept charity." Despite her apparent poverty, she spoke with great dignity.

"It's not charity," Hector protested. "I owe you this."

"You don't owe me anything, my lord," the girl insisted.

"Yes I do," Hector said firmly. "Don't you think I remember what you did for my brother? I am in your debt, just like I told you."

The girl looked embarrassed. "I really didn't do a lot for your brother," she said awkwardly.

Hector laughed. "You saved him from being cut open. I should think that counts for something. Please, let me give you this small sign of my appreciation," he said gently, taking care not to hurt her pride.

The girl couldn't help smiling. She shrugged. "I am grateful, my lord."

Hector nodded and surveyed her. "Are you going home?" he asked. She nodded. "Let me take you," he said impulsively.

"You don't have to trouble yourself," the girl said quickly.

"It is no trouble," Hector assured her. "You shouldn't be walking in this wind."

She looked hesitating. "I have a man, my lord," she said knowingly.

"Yes so you said," Hector nodded. "But that doesn't mean we can't be friends does it?"

His expression was playful and she couldn't hold back a laugh. "No I suppose not. Who wouldn't like to be your friend, my lord?"

The sparkle in her blue eyes made Hector feel dizzy and for a moment he couldn't speak. Then he swallowed and commanded himself not to make a fool out of himself. He lifted the girl into the saddle and mounted behind her. Together, they rode out from the palace and into the swarming streets of Troy.

Hector asked Lena to point out the way to him, which she gladly did. Hector was aware of the scent of her as she was pressed close to him and cleared his throat. "Have you lived here all of your life?"

She turned slightly and smiled. "No I haven't. I grew up outside the city, on the countryside. It was a small place close to the sea where the water is so pure you can use it as a mirror."

"And why did you come here?"

"Oh." Her smile died and she shrugged. "That was when I met Nikos. He took me with him to Troy. It's a splendid city, but sometimes it is hard to make a living."

Hector didn't know what to say and almost felt like he was supposed to excuse himself because he was a prince. That would be ridiculous. He just kept his silence for the rest of the ride until they reached her home. It was a small house placed in a narrow alley and quite worn.

He helped Lena dismount. She looked somewhat awkward. "Thank you for escorting me, my lord," she said. Then she glanced at her house. "I would like to invite you to the house, but Nikos... Well, I don't think he would appreciate it..." Her face was apologizing and uncomfortable.

"I understand," Hector assured her. "Let's just say our good byes here."

Her face was relieved. "Thank you my lord."

Before Hector could say anything else, there was a call from inside the house. "Lena, is that you?" A young man with dark hair and a shaggy beard came out through the door. He was an impressive sight, about Hector's height, but where the prince was slender, this man looked stocky and powerful.

He had been opening his mouth to say something to Lena, but stopped in surprise as he realized that she wasn't alone. He frowned slightly. "Who is this?" he asked glaring suspiciously.

"This is Hector, the Prince of Troy," Lena introduced. "He just took me home from the castle," she explained quickly. "The prince was kind enough to offer me some help to get an employment."

"Did he?" This did not seem to please the young man.

"This is Nikos who I told you about," Lena told Hector. He nodded a polite greeting at the man.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Lena looked worried and Hector realized that she probably feared that her man would come to the wrong conclusions. He didn't want to get her, nor himself into any trouble. "Well, I suppose I should go," he said, moving towards his horse.

"No, whatever for?" the young Nikos said abruptly. The suspicion had subsided and his face was lit up by a slow smile. "If the Prince of Troy has come by my humble house, he must at least stay for a cup of wine."

"Oh, well I hadn't really planned..."

"Nonsense, just come inside, my prince," Nikos offered, gesturing towards the door.

Hector gave in. Just a cup of wine. Then he would leave. He followed Nikos and Lena up the stairs and inside their small and narrow home. Nikos offered him a seat at a bench and settled down next to him. "Lena, get us some wine if you please," he said.

She didn't look too happy with the way things had developed, but nodded and headed for the kitchen. Nikos turned back to Hector who tried to make himself comfortable on the hard bench. "So, how do you know Lena?"

His tone of voice was curious and slightly hostile. Hector realized that he was jealous. "I don't," he admitted. "We just met a couple of weeks ago at Apollo's Lyre. She did my brother a great kindness."

"Really?" Nikos raised his eyebrows. "And now you are going to help her get a work inside the palace?" He sounded knowing and Hector realized that he was suspecting that he had other intentions as well.

"Yes, I am," he answered honestly. His eyes were steady; he had nothing to hide.

Nikos looked slightly embarrassed. "Forgive me, my lord. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just... Well, I guess a prince like you can do or take whatever he likes," he said grimly. "It's not much a man like me could do to stop it."

"There is no need for worry," Hector assured him. "I am just trying to repay Lena for what she did. Nothing more."

"Oh, well she has a good heart," Nikos said, seemingly relieved. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, my lord."

He left Hector and followed Lena into the kitchen. A moment later, they both returned, carrying cups of wine. Lena handed Hector a cup and he smiled politely. He watched her as she took her place on the other side of the table. He had been truthful when he spoke to her man about his intentions, but he still couldn't help but notice the fact that she was a very attractive young woman.

She was short, but very petite and rounded in the right areas. She had removed her cloak and her raven hair hung loosely against her back. Her eyes were in a rare violet colour, her lashes black and thick. Besides, there was something about the way she moved, a certain grace. He had to admit that she could be taken for one of the noblest ladies in his father's castle. It was a shame that she had given herself to such a...

He suddenly noticed that Nikos was staring at him with disapproval and managed to take his eyes off her. He silently scolded himself. He was going to be married in a few months. This wasn't the time to start thinking about some romantic entanglements. Especially not with a woman who belonged to someone else.

He cleared his throat. "Are you two married?" he asked the young couple.

They glanced at each other. "No yet, my lord," Lena answered. "Nikos has promised that we will as soon as he has made us some more money."

"I used to be with the city guard," Nikos informed him, cringing. "But my temper didn't fit them. Since then I have... well, I have been taking a work where I can find one."

Hector nodded politely. Lena looked at him closely. "Are you married my lord?" she asked him.

His cheeks crimsoned slightly. "Not yet. Just betrothed."

Hector finished his wine and decided that he had better go. It was getting late. Surprisingly enough, Nikos allowed Lena to follow him down to his horse that was bound in the alley. She looked nervous as they said good bye. "I must apologize for Nikos," she said. "I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable?"

"Not at all," Hector assured her, courteously. "I can see why he is concerned." He looked closer at her face and discovered a mark he hadn't noticed before on her chin. It looked like a bruise. He frowned. "Does he treat you well?" he asked her impulsively.

She locked taken aback and blushed as she realized what he was referring to. "He is not wicked, my lord," she said. "He... he is my man," she finished simply.

Hector nodded. "I understand. I just hope that he appreciates what he has got." He pressed Lena's hand lightly. "I'll let you know about the work."

"You are very kind, my lord," she said sincerely.

He bid her farewell and turned the horse. It was too late to go for a long ride by now, so he decided to go straight back to the castle instead. The city of Troy consisted of many swirling alleys and it was an easy thing to get lost. But Hector knew the town like his own pockets.

He didn't know when he suddenly started to feel dizzy. He tried to straighten up in the saddle, but it just seemed to get worse. His head felt heavy and his sight was blurry. He didn't seem to be able to control his own muscles anymore and he felt himself sliding down over the horse's side.

As he hit the ground, the truth hit his confused mind. _"The wine, the wine..." _He was lying on his stomach in a deserted, dark alley, unable to move when he suddenly heard the sound of laughter and loud voices around him.

"Well, this is a prey worth something," he heard a man saying. The voice was familiar.

_It can't be, _he tried to tell himself. _She wouldn't... _Then he received a hard blow in the back of his head and everything around him turned into darkness.


	5. Chapter 4 Prisoners

**Lilycup:** Your reviews are always a source of inspiration. I am really happy that you like my way of writing. I just hope you won't hesitate to tell me if I am writing something you _don't _like, lol. About Hector and Lena, well, we'll see...

**Priestess of the myrmidons:** Thank you for reviewing. I know I have been kinda lazy about checking the chapters properly before posting them (Paris and Priam were mixed up a couple of times in chapter 2 for example). I apologize and I promise I will try to improve.

I must also thank you for your reviews of my other story, Buried alive. It's really nice to know that you liked it, especially since you weren't too fond of the pairing Andromache/Achilles.

**Chapter 4 - Prisoners**

He had probably not been out of the running for a very long time, since the pain in the back of his head barely resembled more than a gloomy eco. Hector blinked, attempting to see clearly in the obscure space he had been placed in as he slowly made his way back into consciousness again.

His senses felt dull and heavy and for a moment, he couldn't remember anything. He felt something heavy over his wrists and tried to shake it off. There was a rattle and he realized that he was in irons. Two heavy cuffs joined together by a solid chain shackled his arms tightly. At least he had not been bolted to the wall; not that it mattered since he would have been unable to fight anyway in his present condition.

He slowly started to realize that he wasn't dead or dreaming. The pain in his wrists, caused by the cold metal, seemed too authentic to be unreal. He had been abducted by someone. But why? And how?

Then he suddenly heard a voice from somewhere close and it all came back to him in slow, jerky pieces. The ride, the wine, the blow against his head, the drug... He heard another voice; a soft, feminine one. _The girl, _he added grimly to himself.

"You hit him too hard," she said, reproaching. "You could have killed him."

A man snorted. Nikos. "Don't be a fool, I wouldn't kill him. I just wanted to make sure that he wouldn't cause us any trouble."

"I gave him the herbs like you said," she objected. "That should have been enough. There was no need to strike him."

"Spare me your female anxiousness, Lena," Nikos said dismissively. "You better go upstairs now. The others will be coming soon and I don't want you here then."

"Oh, really? You would never have been able to capture him if it wasn't for me."

"That's possible. But he is still my prisoner. Don't worry; you'll get your reward. Now be gone."

Hector heard her sighing and the sound of her feet as they ascended the stairs. Things were silent for a while and he almost fell into a dazed slumber when he suddenly heard a mass of male voices from somewhere close. There was a clatter of keys and suddenly, a ray of light hit Hector's eyes and he was able to see where he had been imprisoned. It was a small, narrow space with a low ceiling and no furniture. It smelled rotten.

Nikos was standing in the door with a few other young men who were all watching him. Nikos carried a torch in his hand and a sneer was painted over his thick face. "Behold the Crown Prince of Troy," He said loudly and the men chuckled. "King Priam's very own jewel and he shall become a jewel to us as well, I assure you."

Hector tried to raise his head. He wanted to glare at them with defiance, but the drug still held him in a firm grasp and he sank back, huddled up against the wall like a frightened child.

Nikos moved a little closer. He was unable to stand under the low ceiling and was walking slightly bent down. The torch roamed over Hector's features and its light displayed his weak, dazed state. "Tell me, my prince," Nikos said, "How much your father is prepared to give for the safe return of his favourite son and heir, do you think? A thousand gold pieces perhaps?"

Hector snorted in disbelief. "Do you think my father would impoverish his own kingdom?" he spat. "Never."

"Are you telling me that a father's love for his son is less important than gold?"

"My father is not a fool." Hector stated. "He will not sacrifice Troy for my sake."

"Really?" Nikos raised his light eyebrows. "Well, maybe we can find a way of convincing him..." He turned back to his men who were still gathered by the door and smirked. "For sure, Priam will want to see some kind of evidence that we really do hold his precious heir. So what part of his son's anatomy do you think we should send him? A lock of hair?"

"No, that's not proof enough!" one of the others objected. "Send him a royal ear instead!"

"No, a finger with that fancy ring of his still on!"

"Why not an eye?"

"I say, we should make him unable to breed any heirs on his wife!"

The gang roared with laughter. Nikos raised his arms to silence them. "It seems that we might have to discuss this a little bit closer. Besides, Alex the butcher's son isn't even here yet. He should be doing the chopping. Why don't we start warming ourselves up a little bit first..."

He grinned ominously and nodded at two of his men. Hector instinctively pulled back as they approached him, but he was unable to do much fighting since he was chained and under the influence of the drug. The two men grabbed Hector's arms and pulled him into the light.

Nikos reached out to yank the prince's tunic off. Hector clenched his teeth tightly together, humiliation burning in his soul. Another man stepped forward. Hector was unsurprised to see that he carried a whip in his hand. He pulled a deep breath and tried to steel himself.

The pain was not the worst, even though it almost blinded him when the whip hit his bare back. The worst of all was the degradation of being shackled and beaten by some worthless mercenaries like a simple convict. Hector's body, mind and soul were filled with a fury and hatred he had never experienced before.

His back was getting bloody, he could feel it. The whip dug into his flesh and tore his skin apart. Finally, he had tears in his eyes and he bit his lip so harshly that it started bleeding. But he refused to cry out. No matter what, they would not have that pleasure. He would never beg them for mercy. That would be worse than anything else.

Finally, Nikos held up his hand to stop the beater. "That will do," he said loudly. "Otherwise we won't have anything to demand a ransom for." The men let Hector go and he fell on his stomach on the cold stone floor.

Nikos smiled down at him. "Well, my prince?" he said smoothly. "Don't you think this will prove too much for your poor old father's heart? Don't you think this will make him willing to excavate the gold we want? What do you say, prince?"

"Go to Hades!" Hector hissed in a choked voice.

Nikos laughed. "Not quite yet. First I intend to live my life among the breathing people. And from now I will do so in a rather more comfortable way."

"You'll never make it," Hector said grimly. "My father's soldiers will find me."

Nikos laughed again. "Oh, the city guard you mean? Or even the brave apollonians? You forget that I have been among that lot, my lord, and I know what they are like. If you say speak, they will bark and if I say it's nothing here, they will believe me."

He smirked as he made a gesture to his men that it was time to leave. The men seemed slightly disappointed but followed the wishes of their leader. "We'll be back, my prince," Nikos said amiably as he brought the torch with him and left Hector alone in the darkness once again.

Hector panted and tried to breathe normally. Slowly and wincing with pain he managed to drag himself up to a sitting position. The wounds on his back were throbbing and burning like fire. The sticky blood covered his whole back and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was cold and managed to wrap his tunic around him again. The cloth was immediately soaked by blood, but he didn't care. He knew that he should be thinking of a way to escape, but he didn't have the power to. His head still felt numb. Shaking with cold and a fear he tried to push away, the prince huddled up in a corner. He had never felt more lonely and exposed.

He tried to think about his brother, little Briseis, his mother, his horses. Even the dreaded Princess of Thebe. He tried to think of anything that would focus his mind on something else than what he had to expect when Nikos and the others returned.

He didn't know how much time had passed when the door was opened again. The visitor moved almost soundlessly and for a moment Hector wondered if they had decided to assassinate him after all. Then he recognized Lena and momentarily relaxed. He reproached himself. _"She may not be as big or as strong as the others, but she has proved herself an opponent more dangerous than anyone else."_

Lena placed her torch in a holder and turned to face him. Unlike Nikos, she could easily stand straight in the narrow space. Her face was pale and she looked uncomfortable. "My lord," she said nervously. "How are you feeling? Are you in pains?"

"You should know that, since you were the one who mixed together that drug that was put in my wine," Hector reminded her dryly. "How would I know what poison you sprinkled into it?"

Colour rose to her cheeks. "It was harmless."

"Why should I believe you?" he asked her, challenging. "I am still weak and my head is still spinning."

"It will pass within a few hours," she told him. "You will have your strength back. I promise you. And they won't..." She blushed. "They will not beat you again, my lord."

He didn't know why, but for some reason he believed she was telling the truth. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Where are we?"

"In the cellars under our house. They dragged you here..."

Hector laughed bitterly and shook his head. "You really played your part well," he told her. "I fell for your innocent act like some blue-eyed boy child. And all the time, you knew just where you were going to hit. A sly plan indeed. You should be in politics, my lady."

She pressed her lips tightly together. "I knew nothing," she said firmly.

"Don't even try that!" Hector spat at her, sensing a fury in his blood.

"I didn't; you must believe me..."

"You prepared the wine, didn't you?" Hector asked sarcastically.

"He made me do it."

He scoffed. "Not again, Lena. I won't fall for your innocent ploys this time. Never again."

"It's true," she hissed feverishly. "Please listen to me!" She pulled a deep breath to calm down and continued: "He made me do it, I swear. It was not my choice. What do you think he would have done to me if I had refused?"

Hector didn't answer and tears of frustration filled her blue eyes. "Do you now what it's like to live your whole life in terror?" she hissed. "Do you know what it's like to wake up every day wondering if this will be your last? Do you know what it's like to be on someone else's mercy every moment of every day? No you don't," she spat. "You know _nothing, _Prince of Troy."

He didn't know what to say, he just stared at her, slightly astonished. She swallowed and angrily wiped the tears from her eyes. They were both silent for some time. "Do you know what they will do to me?" he finally asked her flatly.

She nodded. "They will be coming here tonight with the butcher's boy..." she hesitated. "It seems like they have decided to take your hand off."

Hector sucked in a breath. He feared neither fighting nor enemies, but the thought of being maimed was enough to drain all colour from his cheeks. Without his hand, he wouldn't be able to hold his sword and shield. He would no longer be a man, only a useless cripple. A crippled crown prince.

"You can't let them do that!" he said fiercely.

She didn't answer and Hector felt panic. "You can't," he repeated. "For gods' sake, Lena. If what you have told me is true, then prove it! Help me to get out of here."

She swallowed again. "I... I can't do that, my lord."

"Yes you can!" he hissed. "You are Nikos' lover, aren't you? Use your masterly tricks on him for a change! Get the key to my chains."

"He would kill me if he found out," she whispered.

Hector didn't answer since he knew that it was pointless to deny that fact. "I beg you."

She looked at him for a long time. "No," she finally said and left the cell.


	6. Chapter 5 Escaping fear

**Chapter 5 - Escaping fear**

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the chains. Besides, what difference would it make? The door was bolted from the other side and he was in no condition to break it down. There was nothing to do, except waiting.

_What a fool I am_, Hector realized bitterly. _What a stupid halfwit._ He deserved what was coming to him. He deserved worse.

When he heard voices outside the cell again, he pulled a deep breath and tried to compose himself. No matter what, he was going to face them with dignity. He was a prince and he would talk down to them with contempt.

But it was only Nikos and Lena who arrived. Nikos carried a tray of food. "My sweet lady insisted that you would have a decent meal," he declared and nodded at Lena who carried a jar of water. He put some bread and dried fruit in front of Hector who looked at it with disinterest.

"You better eat, Prince of Troy," Nikos urged him. "Enjoy the feeling of being able to use _both _your hands – even if they are chained." He laughed profoundly at his own joke and held out a loaf of bread for the prince.

Hector had no appetite whatsoever; the thought of food made him feel sick. He lashed out and casually struck the bread out of Nikos' hand. A very incautious thing to do, he realized as he saw a look of fury cross the other man's face. His payment for his stupidity was a hard kick from Nikos' boot that hit him across his cheek and sent him back towards the wall.

Nikos watched the panting prince grimly. He glanced at the woman who was standing behind him, clutching her jar tightly in her hands. "Pour him a cup of water, Lena," he ordered. "He looks like he may need it."

Lena didn't move an inch.

Nikos frowned. "Lena?" he said commandingly. "Do what I tell you."

The girl's eyes were wide and she breathed heavily. To Hector's eyes she seemed to be moving very slowly when she suddenly lifted her arm, but it was probably not a matter of more than a couple of seconds. Nikos didn't have a chance to react before she slammed the jar of water into the side of his head. Nikos fell to the floor like a rock. Blood trickled from the wound.

Without hesitation, Lena bent over and unsheathed the short sword Nikos carried by his belt. Then she reached her hand out to Hector. "Come on," she whispered nervously."

Hector just stared at her and the knocked out man on the floor. "What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely.

"What does it look like I am doing?" she asked him incredulously. "Hurry, or do you want him to wake up again?"

Still dazed, Hector took her hand and allowed her to help him back to his feet. "What about the others?"

"Don't worry, they are asleep." She smiled dryly. "The drug works just as well on commoners as it does on princes. Can you walk?"

"I think so," Hector mumbled and staggered slightly. "What about him?" he asked, pointing at Nikos."

"Just leave him," she said with indifference.

"But my chains..."

"Never mind the chains!" she whispered fiercely. "The butcher will be here soon and we have to be away before then. If he catches us, he will take four hands instead of one."

She helped him stagger towards the stairs. They had just made it to the landing when the door was opened and they were met by an extremely overweight young man, carrying an axe in his hand.

The man stared at them both in wonder, but Lena reacted like a flash. She used the shaft of the short sword to shove into his swelling belly. He vaulted backwards and fell. Quickly, Lena grabbed Hector's hand and they stepped over the fallen man, out into the street.

"Quickly!" Lena hissed and dragged the dazed prince with her towards another alleyway. They heard other voices screaming behind them, a horse neighing and hurried their steps. Hector stumbled sometimes. The streets were dark and deserted, but Lena's hand held him firmly. She seemed to know where to go.

Behind them, the sound of hoofs was getting closer. "Please, my lord, you must hurry," Lena begged him with a hint of desperation in her voice. Hector tried to concentrate on every step he took to keep himself from falling apart. However, he found it impossible to stay quiet. He panted and breathed so hard that the sounds seemed to eco across the sleeping town.

Suddenly, a giant horse was in front of them and Lena stopped so abruptly that Hector ran into her. There was a young man in the saddle and his face was twisted with rage. "You treacherous snake!" he hissed at Lena and raised his sword, swinging it towards her.

Lena dived and pulled Hector with her. "This way!" She dragged him into another alley. This one was so narrow that the horse wouldn't be able to get through. Hector ran blindly through the darkness, holding on to Lena's hand for dear life. He felt like she was his only link to the other world at the moment. She was the only person who could see him through the darkness towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

But when they reached the other end, they were met by an unpleasant surprise. Two other men were waiting for them, armed with swords and daggers. "Lay down your weapons!" one of them demanded.

Hector stared at them. There were two of them and they had weapons. For a moment he considered giving up. He didn't have the strength to do anything. But then he was suddenly grasped by fury. They would _not _lock him up again. He would _not _be at their mercy again. Not without fight.

"The sword; give it to me," he whispered.

Lena looked at his chains and seemed like she wanted to protest. But the look in Hector's face stopped her. Besides, she really didn't have much choice. Her hands were trembling and fumbling as she handed the sword over to him.

"Step aside," Hector told her grimly. She gave him one last anxious look and did as he told her. The men looked slightly surprised at Hector's choice of action, but then their faces hardened.

"If that is the way you want it," one of them said icily.

Hector didn't know how he was able to parry the two men's initial thrusts. His arms felt weak and his legs limp. He was much slowed than usually and his head was still spinning slightly. The chains around his wrists forced him to hold the sword with both hands when he fought them, something he wasn't used to.

One of the men lashed out with a vicious strike that would have cut Hector's side open. He managed to block it with his sword and kicked out with his leg to keep the other man at distance.

The odds were not in his favour, but still, he somehow felt his confidence increasing with every moment that he managed to fend them off. The demands of necessity brought strength to his body and made him see things more clearly. Even in chains, he was a fearsome warrior and even if his opponents were two, they were not in his league. Besides, he knew that they wanted him alive.

He managed to hit one of the men with the flat side of the sword and sent him stumbling to the ground. The other man's face was bright red. His powers were getting weaker. Hector's strength increased with every breath. The effects of the drug were leaving his body and his rage helped to speed his recovery.

He pushed the man up against the wall and got a hold of his swords arm. Slowly, Hector's strong hands forced him to lower the sword. He could have done it faster, but he preferred to enjoy the moment. He usually preferred to kill men swiftly and painlessly but now, he somehow enjoyed the panic in the man's eyes.

That was when he suddenly heard a cry from Lena. He had almost forgotten about her in the heat of the moment and glanced around. Apparently, the other man had not been knocked out and he was approaching her in an intimidating way. Quickly, Hector used his sword to finish the man he had pinned against the wall. The he turned around, prepared to aid the girl.

But it turned out that Lena didn't need any help. Her hands pulled out a small dagger from her belt and with a surprising skill; she threw it straight into the man's chest. He fell backwards with a terrible wheeze.

Lena stared at the man whose life she had taken with wide eyes. She was breathing fiercely. Hector put his sword away and approached her. "Are you all right?" he asked her gently.

She nodded, but her wide eyes said something else. Hector walked up to her and with a shivering sigh, she stepped into his embrace. She didn't cry, but her entire body was shaking. Hector comforted her with low, soothing words, as he was carefully stroking her raven hair with his chained hands. She let him hold her, but she looked slightly embarrassed when she pulled back.

"It's all right," Hector said mildly. "I know it is not easy the first time." He could well remember the first time he had slain a man. He had been no more than a boy back then, but he could still hear the eco of the man's screaming in his mind.

Lena blinked in surprise. Then she smiled awkwardly. "This... this was not my first time, my lord," she admitted.

Hector was startled, but he didn't have the time to ask her more, before he suddenly let out a loud moan and cringed. The wounds on his back were stinging. He had been able to ignore them during the fight, but now they hurt worse than ever.

"What is it, my lord? Are you injured?" Lena asked with worry.

"It's all right..." Hector started hoarsely, but Lena discovered the truth as she examined him.

"Oh, my lord!" She shook her head miserably. "They treated you in a dreadful way... and it's my fault."

"No, it's not," Hector began, but she wouldn't listen.

"I was such a coward... I wouldn't help you and I didn't do anything to stop them from hitting you."

"It doesn't matter now," Hector assured her. "Thanks to you, I finally got away from them."

She shook her head fiercely. "I deserve none of your gratitude, my lord. You would never have ended up in this situation if it wasn't for me."

"Whatever you did, you have made up for it tonight," Hector said firmly. When she shook her head, he couldn't keep himself from smiling. "Gods Lena, has anyone ever told you what a stiff neck you have?"

The girl blushed, but she smiled too. "Once or twice," she admitted.

"I am not surprised." Hector groaned again and felt his legs go limp from under him. Lena quickly wrapped her arm around his waist to keep him steady.

"We shouldn't stay here," she decided. "More people will probably come looking for us."

Hector knew she was right, but he still didn't feel like leaving. "I don't think I can make it to the palace," he admitted.

"Don't worry, my lord," Lena said as she began to lead him off. "I'll take you somewhere safe."

As they walked, Hector started to feel like his exhaustion was finally catching up with him and he found it difficult to use his legs. He tried not to lean too hard on Lena because he realized that it must be difficult for her. Even if she was a strong woman he weighed quite a lot. But she assured him that she was all right and he had no other choice but to believe her.

He didn't know how long they had been walking, when he seemed to fall out of consciousness. He felt the ground under his feet, but he saw nothing and heard noting. One again, he was completely depending on her as she led him through the dark streets of Troy.

He didn't know where he was when he was finally laid down on something soft. He put his head down and enjoyed the feeling. Around him there was a chorus of voices, but he only recognized one of them.

"I need a blacksmith to take off his chains. Could anyone get him for me?"

"The prince of Troy in _here? _Are you out of you mind, Lena?"

"I didn't know where else to take him. I need some anointments to clean his wounds. Does he have a fever, do you think?"

Someone turned him over and he felt something wet against his back and stiffened. It stung like fire. But her voice calmed him down. "Don't worry, my lord. It will ease your pains..." He forced himself to relax and as he experienced a soothing feeling over his wounded back, he started to fall into a slumber.

"Where are we?" he whispered, groggily.

"In a room above the tavern," she answered reassuringly. "Don't be afraid, my lord. I won't let anything happen to you."

That was all he needed to hear. Sighing, he gave into his weariness and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

In his dreams, he was back in the dark cell. His mind was heavy and his body numb. A man came towards him, carrying an axe. He was filled with a dread he had never experienced before and tried to pull away. But he couldn't move. Arms shackled him tightly and his wrists were bound.

The man raised his axe and hit.

The pain was excruciating. Hector stared at the stump where his hand had been placed. The man held the appendage before his eyes and waved it, teasingly. The whole room was roaring with mocking laughter. Fury and humiliation burned in his soul.

They didn't settle with one hand. They took off the other one as well. They took of his feet, his arms, his legs until there was nothing left of him. They had taken his eyes and his ears. He couldn't see anything; he couldn't hear anything.

_You can't do this to me; I am the Prince of Troy! _He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. They had taken is tongue as well. And he realized that it would be the wrong thing to say anyway. He wasn't a prince. He was nothing but a cripple. A freak and an abomination...

He was jerked out of his dreams and woke up with a start. He was breathing heavily as he tried to remember where he was and what had happened. Frantically, he searched through his body and felt a wave of relief as he felt that his arms and legs were still there. The chains had been taken off. He could use his ears and he could see.

But he couldn't loose his fear that clenched his heart and soul tightly. He still felt divided. Would they come for him again? Would they find him? Did he still have his ability to fight?

That was when a soft hand reached out to touch his cheek and he heard a gentle, low voice. "My lord... Hector, you are all right. Nothing can threaten you now."

He could make out her form sitting next to him on the bedside and a wild longing came over him. He grabbed her hand tightly and pulled her to him. Like a babe snuggling up to his mother, he just wanted to be close to her, sense her warmth and the comfort of her softness.

He felt a desperate need to prove that he was still alive and that he was still a whole and healthy man. And there was only one way that he could think of. Blindly, his lips found hers as he covered her body with his own. He could think of nothing except his wild wish to escape this dread he wanted nothing to do with.

But as he looked into her wide eyes, his sense suddenly spoke up. _Gods, what am I doing? _And with an effort that almost made him feel dizzy, he stopped himself. But when he attempted to liberate her from the weight of his body, she surprised him by holding on to him.

"Don't go," she said slowly.

Hector stared down at her. Somewhere deep inside, he knew that this couldn't be right and he knew that he should say it. But he couldn't. Desire, mixed with fear, gratitude and self-awareness had created a need in him that he didn't know how to stop. He didn't want to feel any guilt and he couldn't.

Her blue eyes were calm and he could tell that she understood his reasons. But it didn't make any difference to her. Her hand slowly touched his cheek. "Let me make it better for you, my lord," she whispered.

In that moment, everything vanished. Everything except her.


	7. Chapter 6 Homecoming

**Author's note: **Thank you my reviewers! It's always great to know what you think about the story. Keep up if you please.

**Chapter 6 - Homecoming**

Hector slowly opened the door to his mother's parlour and stepped in. Two pairs of eyes turned towards him immediately. The king of Troy and his queen stopped their conversation and appraised their eldest son. He had been able to wash himself and change his clothes, but he still somehow felt dirty.

He tried to keep his face flat as he greeted his parents. "Father," he said and bowed slightly. "Mother." He nodded at her.

Priam had stood up from the sofa he had been sitting in with his arms crossed over his chest. As always, his eyes were piercing when he watched his firstborn. "It is good to see you back safe, my son," he said.

Hector nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more, father. I have rarely had more reason to be thankful that I am back within these walls again." He silenced and smiled lightly. "I met Briseis on my way here. She seemed very delighted to see me too."

"I am not surprised," Priam said. "The poor child has been worried sick for your sake."

His wife, Queen Hecuba had remained seated, slightly hidden behind her husband. As always, she kept to the background and let her husband speak for her. But even if she was quiet, no one could doubt her strength and her sharp mind. Now, she spoke up. "You look weary, Hector. Won't you sit down?"

Grateful for his mother's thoughtfulness, Hector sank down in an armchair. Priam remained standing. "General Glaucus returned just a few moments ago with his men. He went to that house you described."

"And...?"

"He found a few unconscious men in the main room, like you said. But apparently, some of them had recovered and fled. They could not be found."

"What about Nikos?" Hector asked anxiously.

Priam shook his head. "There was no one in the cellars."

"Damn it," Hector snarled. Priam looked at him with disapproval and he quickly apologized to his mother. He knew that he needed to keep his tongue under control, but to learn that Nikos had gotten away was a severe blow. "I'll order the city watch to look for him," he muttered.

A glance was exchanged between his parents. They often conversed wordlessly and you could never be certain if you were interrupting them when you raised your voice. Priam cleared his throat. "Is it true what Glaucus told me? That these men placed you in irons and whipped you?"

Hector sighed and rolled his sleeves up to display the red marks on his wrists. "Yes it's true." His mother pulled her breath and Priam's eyes became dark. "They wanted gold... a ransom for my life." He couldn't bring himself to tell them about Nikos' plans to cut off his hand.

"This is an outrage," Priam said with a hard edge in his usually calm tone of voice. "These men will be punished and their punishment shall fit their crime." Then he frowned and added. "Glaucus tells me that there was some girl involved too. He says that she tricked you by putting drugs in your wine. But no woman was found in the house either."

"That girl was the one who brought me here," Hector explained. "She helped me escape."

"And how much gold did you promise her?"

Hector sighed in annoyance. "None."

Priam raised his eyebrows. "She was these men's accomplice and you think she saved you out of the kindness of her heart?"

"I don't care why she saved me. What I care about is that she did."

"And you trust her?"

"Tonight I had little choice but to trust her and she never failed me. She risked her own life to take me to safety and for that I owe her my gratitude."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Well, perhaps we should ask herself," Priam said dryly and nodded at the guards to open the door. Hector looked surprised and he added: "I told Glaucus to send your rescuer to me so that I would have a chance to thank her."

The door was opened and Lena stepped in. Hector felt sorry for her. The great hall made her look smaller than ever and her eyes were wide with fear. But even so, she made an effort to look composed. "Your graces." She greeted the king and queen of Troy and bowed so deeply that her forehead almost touched the floor. "My lord," she mumbled in Hector's direction, somewhat embarrassed.

Priam watched her flatly. "Lena, was that your name?" She nodded. "Well, I have heard that you were the one who saved my son from his captivity? Why did you do this?"

Lena glanced unsurely at Hector, but answered sincerely. "Because it was because of me that he ended up in that situation in the first place, your grace."

Priam nodded. "And what sort of reward do you expect?"

Hector couldn't help feeling irritated with his father for his insensitive way of addressing her. However, Lena didn't seem discouraged. "The prince's gratitude is all the reward I want, your grace," she answered and blushed as she realized that her words could be misinterpreted.

"Well, for what it's worth, you have my thanks as well," Priam said. He had apparently decided to grant her his trust, although reluctantly. He was about to continue when his wife interrupted him gracefully.

"Of course my husband realizes that no words will be enough to remedy what you have done for our son," she said amiably. "But perhaps a place in my service could make up for something at least."

"Your service, your grace?" Lena echoed.

"Certainly. I have always room for intelligent and quick-thinking women among my ladies," Hecuba smiled. She appraised the girl. "How old are you?"

Lena stared at the queen in wonder. The thought becoming one of the queen's ladies in waiting almost seemed to overwhelm her. Finally she managed to answer. "I am twenty, your grace."

"A most excellent age. Then perhaps we should find you a more suitable clothing..." Not waiting for an answer, she pulled Lena with her towards the exit. In a daze, Lena glanced at Hector before she left.

Hector smiled back. He was a little shocked by his mother's initiative himself and he really didn't know what to say when the women disappeared through the door. Then he turned back to his father, who was watching him closely.

"Father, may I be excused? I am feeling quite tired and..."

"You have lain with that girl," Priam said. His tone was flat, without a hint of accusation.

It wasn't a question. "Yes," Hector admitted. He was still too tired to feel any guilt, but he expected some sharp words from his father.

But Priam was silent. Then he sighed and said gently. "Go to bed, my son. You need your rest."

* * *

But it wasn't so easy to fall asleep as Hector had imagined. Despite himself, he became standing in front of the window, looking out into the night over the city. He knew that he should feel relieve to be back as a free man. But how free was he really?

When he had been a captive, he had only had survival in his mind. When he had been fighting the men, his only thought had been how he was going to cut them down before they cut him. Life was simple when you were in danger.

But now he was back in the castle and he was once again the crown prince of Troy. The heavy burdens were back on his shoulders again. Once again, he was Priam's eldest son; the man who had Troy's future in his hands. There were times when he wished that he had been born a common man, a warrior like anyone else in Troy. Never seriously, but...

The door opened silently behind him. He knew who it was even with his back against her. He knew even before he heard her low voice. "My lord?"

Hector slowly turned to face her. He watched her silently. There was no question that his mother's efforts had been successful. She was dressed in a deep green dress with golden laces sparkling around her neck and wrists. Her hair had been washed and pulled back from her face by a green diadem of silk, but it fell down over her shoulders in shining black ringlets. More than ever, he thought she resembled a lady of noble birth more than a simple girl from the countryside.

She seemed to be aware of the look in his eyes and smiled modestly. "The queen is an amazing woman, my lord. I admitted that I don't know the first thing about arranging a noble lady's hair and clothes, so she offered me to be the companion of your little cousin instead. Briseis, is it?"

Hector nodded but said nothing. Her smile faded. "My lord, if you don't want me to stay in the castle, I won't. I have no wish to embarrass you with my presence. I could speak to the queen directly if you like."

He sighed. "No, Lena, that's not what I was thinking. I just don't..." He stopped. Her eyes were full of affection and it made him uncomfortable. He had needed her the night before, but he was not infatuated with her. At least notthe wayshe was with him. "I am afraid that if you stay here, I will end up hurting you. I... I am betrothed."

She nodded. "Yes, I remember that."

"In a few weeks, a princess from Thebe will arrive. She is to be my bride."

She looked at the ground for a moment before raising her eyes to him again. "I know, my lord. I am in no position to demand anything from you. All I want... is what you gave me last night."

He looked at her closely. Her eyes were open and honest. She was neither as seductive nor as aware of her own allure as many other women Hector had been in contact with, but her straightforwardness increased his attraction. Still, he felt uncertain of his feelings. After what she had done for him, she deserved better than being used.

"I don't know if you can understand," he said gently. "I mean, after what happened between you and Nikos..."

Lena shook her head firmly. "I could never think of you in the same way as him, my lord. You are so different. So gentle, so sweet..."

"Sweet?" Hector couldn't help laughing. "I don't think anyone has ever called me sweet before."

She blushed, but continued bravely. "Well, you are. I know you are not a man who likes to let his feelings shine through, but I think I saw you for what you truly are last night. Not just your body or your appearance, but what's in here." She touched her heart. "I saw no cruelty there, like I did in him."

"I am a warrior."

"You are," she agreed. "But not a killer."

"I kill." His words were no more than a whisper.

"Only when you have to. When I was with you I felt... safe." She shrugged. "That's a rare gift, my lord.

"You made me feel safe too," Hector admitted and moved closer to her. "But it was more than that to you, wasn't it?" She nodded. "And you still want me?" Once again, she nodded. Carefully, he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Doesn't it matter to you that I can't give you any promises?"

"No, my lord."

A smile was spread across Hector's features. "There is just one thing I must ask you. Will you please stop calling me "my lord" all the time? My name is Hector."

Lena's eyes grew wide. "I couldn't address you like that, my lord!"

"Why not?" he asked her teasingly. "That will not bring down a curse over your head."

"I know that, but the queen and..."

"Oh," Hector shrugged. "You can call me something more reverent with them if you like, just not when we are alone. That would drive me out of my mind. You don't want that, do you?"

She smiled despite herself. Then she raised her arms and placed them around his neck. "As you wish... Hector."

He lowered his head and kissed her, gently at first, then fiercely and more passionately. She lifted her hands to his head, wrapping his soft brown curls around her fingers and caressing his scalp. Once again, he could feel all thoughts of the princess from Thebe, his father and his responsibilities vanishing from his mind.

He wrapped his arms around her small waist and lifted her from the floor. He carried her to his bed where he laid her down.

Much later, they rested together, peacefully relaxed. Hector lifted himself up on one of his elbows. "Lena, I don't know," he started as he watched her in slight amazement. "It is ridiculous... But sometimes you seem so familiar to me, like I have met you somewhere before. Why is that, do you think?"

Then she just smiled and brought his mouth to hers again.


	8. Chapter 7 The duty of a prince

**Carlses: **Thank you for reviewing, I am very flattered that you find it interesting. As you will find in this chapter, Andromache's arrival is getting closer and closer.

**Priestess of the myrmidons: **I am really glad that you like their moments. Especially since I was a little afraid that you would get tired of watching Hector and Lena tongue-tied through the chapters.

**Lilycup: **You are waiting for catfights between Andromache and Lena, aren't you? Well, I won't reveal anything...

**Chapter 7 – The duty of a prince**

"We need a physician!" Hector shouted as he reined his horse before the castle gates. Quickly, he dismounted and helped his wounded friend down from his own horse. He managed to gather his powers and held the man up as he staggered. Tecton moaned loudly with pain. During their ride, he had been flung from the saddle and hit his back badly. He couldn't even stand straight.

Fortunately, a physician quickly arrived to attend him. "This doesn't look good," he mumbled, stroking his long grey beard as he inspected the damages.

"We should take him inside," Hector said and prepared to assist his friend, who unfortunately wasn't as light as a feather.

The physician shook his head. "You shouldn't do that, my prince. You are still not completely recovered."

"Don't worry about me. I can do it," Hector insisted, but the physician was stubborn and called for a couple of servants instead. He instructed Hector to get some rest before he followed them.

Hector sighed as they left. As much as he hated when people tried to fuss with him, he had to admit that the physician had probably not been completely wrong. He still felt a little weak and unsteady on his legs. But that didn't mean that he wanted to spend every moment of every day lying in his bed.

He decided to go for a stroll through the gardens of the palace. They were really beautiful in this time of the year. There were no flowers of such beauty to be found anywhere else in Troy. They were his mother's pride and she kept them in excellent shape. Hector settled down on a bench, in the cooling shadow of a great jasmine bush. He breathed deeply and tried to take in the beauty and inhale the scent of the garden.

That was when he heard a young, feminine voice on the other side of the bush. The voice was familiar and Hector smiled when he heard the words and the excitement of her tone.

"My uncle has told me that he was the son of Zeus and that he is the great master of the sun. It's because of him that our walls have never fallen. He protects our city and keeps her safe from harm, he always will."

"Has your uncle told you that Apollo is also the god of the arts?"

Hector couldn't resist peeking from behind the bush. Briseis and her new companion were sitting by the fountain, deeply engaged in their eager conversation. Briseis bare feet splashed through the water as she spoke.

"Of course he has!" she answered. "He plays the lyre better than anyone else. He is also considered the most beautiful man in the world..." She blushed. "But of course, that's not very important."

Lena, whose skirts were perfectly organized and her hands modestly folded over her lap smiled. "Of course it is," she said. "He is considered the perfect man and role-model for the young men. Just like Artemis is for the young women."

Briseis frowned. "Artemis?"

"You haven't heard of her? She is Apollo's twin sister," Lena explained. "She is the goddess of hunting and of dance, but above all, she protects all women. Especially when the time comes for them to bear their children."

"How?" Briseis asked, her eyes round.

Lena laughed with a hint of irony. "She gives them a quick death."

"Oh." Briseis shuddered. "I have never had a child."

"You are much too young. But you probably will some day when you have grown a little older and are married to someone."

Briseis shook her head. "I don't think I will marry."

"Why not?"

"I don't know... I just don't think I will." Briseis looked thoughtful for a moment, before asking: "How come you know so much about this goddess?"

"Artemis? Oh... Well, I knew someone who was close to her. She would always tell me about her. I found her fascinating..." Lena smiled, but her face was distant.

A loud, sharp voice suddenly interrupted their conversation. "Briseis! Briseis! BRI-SEIS!"

"It's my teacher," Briseis sighed dejectedly. "I suppose I should go in. Will you excuse me?"

"Of course, my lady."

"It was nice to talk to you, Lena. Perhaps we could continue later?"

Lena nodded and Briseis smiled quickly before she hurried off. Lena stood with her arms crossed and watched the girl as she ran towards the palace. She flinched slightly when Hector encircled her waist with his arms.

"I am sorry," he said regretfully. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"That's all right," she smiled.

"You and Briseis seem to get along fine," he remarked as he kissed her neck and pulled her closer to his chest.

"It doesn't take much effort to get along with her. She seems to be a very intelligent girl and she has such a lively fantasy."

"I am quite sure she is fond of you too, considering how well informed you seem to be about the gods and goddesses and their ways."

She blushed. "I really don't know that much. Only what others have told me."

"You know enough. Briseis has always been spellbound by the gods. She loves to listen to my father's stories about them. You better watch out or she will start following you like a dog, begging to know more."

"I don't think that would be unpleasant. She is such a lovely child, Hector."

"She is," he agreed. "She is almost like our sister actually."

"What of her parents...?"

"Oh." Hector's smile faded and he cringed. "Her mother was my father's youngest sister. She is dead now." He hesitated, but decided to tell her the whole story. "My father was about to marry her off when she got pregnant by another man. Her betrothed was... well, slightly _upset _as I am sure you can understand. The whole affair almost brought a war on us and gods should know we had enough enemies to deal with as it was."

"But what about the father of her child?"

"She never revealed his identity to anyone. She died giving birth to Briseis and she made my father promise that he would take care of her child." He shrugged. "And so he did."

"I am sorry," Lena mumbled. "I didn't mean to pry."

"It's not a secret," Hector assured her. "It's just a... sensitive subject, that's all."

"I feel so stupid," Lena said miserably. "I told the poor child about Artemis... That she gives women in child birth a quick death... I was so clumsy."

"You couldn't know," Hector said reassuringly. "And I am sure she didn't take offence."

"Perhaps," Lena mumbled. Then she smiled as she turned around, placing her arms around his neck. "So how are you today... Hector?" she asked him. She was still a little awkward when she addressed him with his first name. "Are you feeling stronger?"

Hector sighed. "I just talked to the physician and he didn't seem to think so. He ordered me to get to bed right away."

"Ah, but of course you refused to, didn't you?" Her voice was low and melodic and her face was very innocent.

"Yes, I did," he admitted, looking deeply into her eyes. "However, I think I might have changed my mind. I think I do need some rest after all."

"Do you?" she asked him in amusement.

"Indeed I do. Perhaps you would be so kind as to escort me? I feel a little faint actually."

"Well, since Briseis seems to be otherwise engaged right now..." They both laughed and she took his arm.

They headed for the castle together, but before they had even reached the gates, a young servant boy ran up to them. "My lord," he gasped breathlessly. "Your presence is requested by his grace, your father."

Hector frowned. "What for?"

"He didn't tell me that, my lord prince."

Hector glanced at Lena. "Can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"I am afraid not, my lord," the boy said, apologizing. "The king insisted that you called on him instantly."

He sighed and gave in. "Very well." Turning to Lena, he said in a low voice: "Wait for me in my chambers. I'll come to you as soon as I can," She nodded and gave his cheek a quick stroke before leaving. Hector followed the young servant, but he couldn't help casting a longing glance after his lover as she walked off in opposite direction.

* * *

Priam was standing in his private chapel in front of a great statue of Apollo. His back was turned against his son. Hector respectfully cleared his throat to inform the king of his arrival. "Father?"

Priam didn't answer immediately. Slowly, he turned around and watched his oldest son. "I heard that there was an accident?"

"Yes," Hector said grudgingly. "It was nothing serious. Tecton's horse flung him off, that's all."

"You were racing again, I suppose?"

"Yes," Hector admitted. "But it was down the beach. We were not risking anything..."

"Nothing except your own lives, you mean," Priam said ironically. "You were recently abused and injured in case you don't remember."

"Of course I remember," Hector said in irritation. He hated when his father made him feel like a small and disobedient child. "But I am all right now."

"And the first thing you do is set out on your horse to get yourself killed?"

"I knew what I was doing, father," Hector defended himself. "I won the race and..."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Hector blushed angrily. "I must ride father!" he stated. "I cannot be inside the castle all the time. I need to be outside the walls, otherwise I would choke. I am the best rider in Troy and..."

"You don't rule a kingdom by riding horses well," Priam stated. He barely raised his voice, but his words and the hard sparkle in his eyes silenced Hector effectively.

"No, father," he said, reluctantly. He realized that he was defeated and added: "I did you wrong by leaving the palace today. It won't happen again. Not until I feel better."

"You are going to be a king some day, my son. And as a monarch you must understand that certain behaviours are simply unacceptable."

Hector nodded. "I understand. If that would be all, father..." He made a move to leave.

"A king must do what is best for his country," Priam continued, like he had not heard him. "He must always bear in mind that he is responsible for the well being of his people. He can't just think about his own personal feelings and wishes. A good king considers the love from his subjects his greatest reward. Furthermore, a king must always put the best of his kingdom before himself. He must always carry out his duty, regardless of the situation."

Priam's eyes were sharp and his tone of voice was knowing. Hector frowned. He had a distinct feeling that his father was trying to reprimand him for something. "Father, if I have done something wrong, can't you just tell me?"

His father's eyes narrowed. "I am talking about the girl, Hector."

Hector stared at him. "The girl?" he repeated, dumbfounded, even though he knew very well who his father was referring to.

"Yes. The one who I assume is waiting in your chambers right now, since you seem so anxious to get away from here," Priam said acidly.

Hector blushed. He knew that it was hardly a secret that he spent his nights with Lena. Neither of them had made any effort to hide it. He had not seen any reason to be ashamed for his actions, but his father's sharp eyes told him something else. Once again, he felt like the little boy he had once been.

Priam suddenly sighed. "My son, you are not a child anymore. You are a prince and it's not my place to tell you who you should consort with or not. You are a man and I well understand that you have certain needs." He momentarily stopped and his tone of voice sharpened. "But this might be a suitable time to remind you that your future wife will arrive in a few weeks."

"It was never my intention to offend Andromache," Hector said. "What happened between me and Lena is... well, I mean, it wasn't planned. It just..."

"Happened," Priam finished dryly. He sighed again. "Hector, I am not blind. She is a pretty girl and I know that you must feel some affection for her since she saved your life and all, but I am afraid that doesn't change anything. You must send her away."

Hector stared at his father. "Why?"

"For the sake of Troy."

"She is not a threat to Troy," Hector protested.

"Are you certain that Andromache would agree with you?"

Hector blushed angrily. "Are you trying to tell me that you have been faithful to mother for all these years?" he spat, forgetting his respect

"I have said nothing of the kind," Priam answered coldly. "However, there is a time and a place for everything. And it would not be a good idea to have this girl within the same walls as your new bride."

Hector glared at his father but he realized that he had a point. He sighed. "When do you want me to send her away?"

"At once." Hector sighed again and Priam continued. "I am not saying that you need to part from her forever. I just don't think it would be advisable for you to keep her in the castle right now. You can send for her again, when the time is more... suited."

"As soon as I have got the Princess of Thebe impregnated you mean," Hector said sarcastically.

Priam raised his eyebrows. "I would advise you to use a little bit more reverence when you are discussing your future wife and queen, my son." He watched his son coolly. "The subject is closed."

* * *

He knew that his father was right. He had to send her away, it was for the best. He should never have let things go this far to begin with. He should have kept his distance like he used to. If only he had managed to, this situation wouldn't be half so difficult.

He tried to steel himself. _I am the Prince of Troy. I must do what is best for my people. It doesn't matter what I want. It doesn't matter what I need. I must do my duty. _

That was what his father had told him and the words had seemed so reasonable. He silently repeated them over and over again as he headed for his chambers. He had to keep them in mind. He couldn't be weak nor could he let his judgement be spotted by emotions he wasn't supposed to have. He was the Prince of Troy.

When he reached the door to his bedroom he had managed to gain some determination. There was no way out. He had to do this, not only for himself but for the sake of his father, Troy and the peace of the realm.

She sat on his bed with her back towards him. When she heard him enter, she turned around. She rose from her sitting position and smiled at him. She had removed her gown and her cloak and wore nothing but a silken shift. The thin material obscured her body from view, but it wasn't enough to hide its slender curves. Her hair fell loosely and unbound over her back and when she smiled, her blue eyes sparkled.

Suddenly, Hector's resolve was torn apart. He could only stop and stare at her. All the gentle, but firm words he had planned to tell her were cleared out of his mind. Forming a sentence was suddenly impossible.

Lena frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Automatically, he shook his head. "No... No, it's not," he said slowly. A sad smile crossed his face as he undid his belt and let it drop to the floor. A clanging sound was heard as his heavy sword hit the stone ground.

Lena still looked slightly confused, but she didn't ask anything as he moved close to her and embraced her tightly. She placed her head against his chest and said nothing. Hector was grateful for her silence. Somehow, she seemed to apprehend his feelings even though he hadn't told her anything.

"_Not now," _he thought as he held her close. _"I will do it, yes, but not now. I can't let her go yet. I just can't." _


	9. Chapter 8 You don't know what you've go...

**Chapter 8 – You don't know what you've got**

Was he in love with her?

That was the question that had been spinning in Hector's mind the last few days. And no matter how hard he tried he couldn't think of an answer.

Maybe he wouldn't recognize the feeling; he had never been in love before, after all. Actually, he had always looked upon the concept of love with a little bit of scepticism. Love was for warriors and servants, not royalties. Love seemed like such an uncontrolled, unbound and slightly dangerous emotion. It was not for someone in his position.

He knew well that a prince had to marry for the best of his country, to someone suitable; to another royalty who knew what it meant to live a life of duty. He had always known this and he had never opposed to it. He had been certain that he would learn to get along with the woman his father would choose for him. If they started to care for each other, it was a good thing, but it was not what it was about.

But with Lena it was different, he thought. What he felt for her had nothing to do with duty or his responsibility. She filled his body, his mind and his senses with her presence. When she wasn't there, he kept thinking about her. When they were together, he always ached to touch her, hold her, kiss her, take her to bed...

She was warmth, she was joy, she was beauty. Her smile lit up his world and the sparkle in her eyes enchanted him. After a long and hard day, he would place his head in her lap and enjoy the feeling of her soft hands stroking his hair; they would sit together on the porch, sharing a cup of wine as they watched the sun settle down over the city. They would rest together in his bed, holding on tightly to each other.

Was this love?

All he knew for sure was that they had become close; closer than he had been to any woman before her. And the strange thing was that he didn't dislike it. He didn't care if he displayed weakness by showing her his affection. He didn't care if he was depending on her. Maybe it was that inexplicable thing about her that seemed so distinctly familiar to him that enabled him to relax in her presence. She gave him peace.

But even if he felt like he had known her forever, the truth was that he didn't know much about her. And what did she know about him? There had only been a few weeks since they met for the first time. How could he possibly decide how strong his feelings for her had grown?

He shook his head. Why had he not met her two or three years ago when he was still relatively free and unbound? It was quite ironic that he would be forced to consider his affections for Lena now, when they were bound to be torn apart.

He sighed. "I wish you would say something."

She turned away from the window where she had been standing, looking out. "Well, what do you want me to say?" she asked him quietly.

He shrugged miserably. "I don't know. I guess I want you to tell me about what a coward and treacherous scoundrel I really am."

A smile started playing on her lips. "Then I would lie."

"No you wouldn't," he said, lowering his head.

"Hector..." She went to the bed where he was sitting and gently took his hand. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You have done nothing for which you should be ashamed."

"I didn't dare to stand up for you. I am letting my father tear you away from me."

She crouched down before him and placed her hand against his unshaved cheek. "I knew this day would come. I have known since we first met that it would be like this. You have not concealed anything from me. I knew that you were supposed to marry her. I had not expected anything else."

Hector looked up at her. "But you and me... "

She managed to smile and shook her head. "I am not completely ignorant about the ways of the world. I know I have nothing to offer you." She shrugged. "I have no title, no gold, no connections. Of course I understand that you have to marry an equal. You need a woman with the right blood in her veins."

"Your blood would do well for me, Lena," Hector protested. "If I only could..."

"But you can't." Her voice was mild.

He shook his head, desperately looking for a way out. "Don't say that. If I talked to my father... If I let you stay somewhere in the city..."

She smiled again and shook her head. Sometimes she seemed so much older than she really was, Hector casually reflected. She was young and still, she seemed so mature at the same time.

"Would you parade with your mistress right in front of your wife?" She gently asked him. "Or would you sneak away to visit me in the middle of the night? No, I don't think you would like that arrangement. You are not that kind of man. You have too much honour." Her voice was soft and quiet when she added: "I didn't want a place as your concubine, Hector. I just wanted you."

He closed his eyes slowly. He still didn't want to part from her, but he knew that there was nothing else to be done. Her strength inspired him and he managed to ask her: "What are you going to do?"

"Go home, I suppose," she answered

"To that village you came from?" She nodded slowly. Their eyes met and Hector knew that they were both thinking the same thing. They would never see each other again. "Is there something for you to return to?" he asked her quietly

She nodded. "I think so. There are people there who would receive me."

"Your family?"

"No. Friends."

She said nothing more and he didn't ask. She sounded sure of herself and he didn't want to question her. He accepted what was unavoidable and said: "I'll arrange an escort for you. Someone from the apollonian guard could take you..."

She dismissed the idea. "There is no need to trouble yourself. I can take care of myself."

He didn't like the thought of her going alone and tried to persuade her. "It could be dangerous out there."

She tossed her head. "I have told you before: I will not accept charity."

"Charity?" Hector repeated in disbelief. Her words almost made him angry. "How can you speak of charity after all this time? Are we counting favours between ourselves?"

"Hector," Lena said gently but firmly. "I don't need an escort." Her pride radiated from her eyes and made her shine. There was no room for argument in her voice. He realized that he had to respect her wishes.

He sighed. "Is there anything else then? Let me at least give you something." He knew that she might be in need of money, but he didn't want to suggest it. He knew that she wouldn't take it well.

Lena waited a long time before she answered. "Yes, actually, there is something I want," she finally said in a low, soft voice. "Something that only you could give me."

"And what is that?" he asked.

She slowly raised her eyes to him. "A child, I think..." She held his hand a little tighter. "_Your _child." She clarified.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at her. He swallowed. His throat felt constricted. "Wouldn't that make things very difficult for you?"

"Probably," she admitted.

Hector shook his head. "Lena... You are asking me to let you go without any hope of seeing you again..."

"And I would not see you either," she nodded. "The child would be my comfort."

"Well, what about my comfort?" he asked her sharply. "Am I supposed to bid you farewell and never learn what will become of you and the child, never know even if I have a son or a daughter?" He shook his head in disbelief. "How can you demand this from me, Lena?"

"Because I feel like my soul is being torn away from me." She closed her eyelids tightly and continued, whispering. "I don't want to loose it."

He looked at her bowed head. His heart was full of compassion and sadness, but he couldn't agree to it. "It's still too much to ask," he insisted weakly. "I am only a man, not a god."

When she raised her head again, her eyes were moist. "I am not a god either. That's why I need something, someone to help me get through this." She raised her arms and placed them around his neck. "Please, Hector... I beg you. Give me something to remember you by. When I look upon my child, I want to see your features, your smile." Her hand followed the lines of his face. "Please, don't deny me this. Give me a part of you at least."

For once, she seemed to have forgotten her sturdiness: her pleadings were sincere and even though she tried to hide it, there was fear in her eyes.

Hector felt a lump in his throat. Slowly, he let his arms slip down to her waist and pulled her close. "It would be... my honour."

As he brought them both back, down to the bed, he could feel her exhale and her body relax. "Thank you," she whispered, her mouth against his. "Thank you."

* * *

It was almost dark when they finally reached the gates of Troy. They had been riding in silence for most of the way. Hector glanced at Lena. Her face was calm and composed and if she felt any angst, she concealed it very well.

Food and other supplies had been packed down in the saddle bags on her horse. She didn't have many other possessions to take with her since she had arrived to the castle with only the clothes she wore. She was dressed in a warm cloak with a hood that covered her hair. She reminded him of what she had looked like that day when they met outside the palace.

He sighed. The night before, he had made a final attempt to make her stay. He had almost begged her, but she had refused. He had even considered holding on to her whether she wanted it or not. He was the prince and he could do what he wished. But his sense had got the better of him. He didn't want her like that.

They stopped their horses outside the gate. The moon had appeared beyond the cliffs by the beach and its silver rays sparkled from the sky. The streets had been calm and emptied and everything seemed peaceful outside the city as well. The guards by the gate had noticed them, but they didn't seem to care very much who entered or exited the city or not. Since they recognized Hector, they had only nodded and let them ride on.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" Hector asked Lena. "At least for a part of the journey? You never know what you will come across."

She smiled and shook her head. "I've told you not to worry. I have my dagger." She patted the sheath by her belt. "Besides, this seems like a quiet night."

He knew that she was probably right, but he was still unwilling to part so soon. He had done everything he could to postpone the inevitable farewell and now he was doing everything possible to prolong it. He just didn't want to let her go away.

"Do you have everything you need?" he asked her politely.

She nodded. "Yes. Yes I have."

They were silent for a while, looking into each other's eyes. "Well," Lena finally said. "Then I guess all that remains is saying goodbye."

"I don't want to, Lena," Hector said sincerely.

"The world is not always the way we want it," she answered.

"If you.." he hesitated. "If you would ever need my help. For yourself or for the child..."

"I won't," she said immediately.

"Maybe it doesn't seem very likely, but _if _something should happen, then promise me that you will come to me. Please, tell me that you will."

She smiled bleakly. "I will. But I won't have to. Artemis will protect me, Hector. I am sure of it."

He appraised her doubtfully. She was a small woman and narrow over the hips. It didn't take much effort to figure out that childbirth would go hard on her. But on the other hand, she seemed so very strong and alive. Maybe it really was the goddess that provided her with her strength.

"The child," he started carefully. "Will you tell..."

"Of course," she answered. "I will tell him everything about his father."

"Him?" Hector said, slightly amused.

She looked embarrassed and shrugged. "Just a feeling. Don't worry, I will take care of our child, Hector."

"I know you will," he answered. _But who will take care of me?_

It seemed like she had been reading his thoughts when she suddenly brought out a small, sparkling object from the pocket of her cloak. "I got this ring from my mother before she died," she said seriously. "She said it would keep me safe." The ring was made of gold with one single sapphire. Gently, Lena pressed it into his hand. "I want you to take it."

"I can't do that. If it comes from your mother..."

"I want you to have it," she repeated. "It would make me feel safer. Then I wouldn't have to fear for your sake."

The ring only fitted the smallest of Hector's fingers. He slowly let it slip on. The blue sapphire glittered in the moonlight. It was beautiful. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Once again, they were silent, watching each other. Then Lena gently pushed her horse forward, bringing the animal side by side with Hector's. With a certain effort, they were able to embrace each other. She hid her face against the soft velvet material on his tunic. He encircled her waist tightly with his arms. He could feel her shivering slightly.

"Take care of yourself," he whispered throatily. "I'll never forget you, Lena. Not as long as I live."

She didn't answer at first, she just held on to him. Slowly, she raised her head and their lips brushed lightly against each other for the last time. Lena's hands found his chin and when she raised her head again, her blue eyes were steady.

"Be happy, Hector," she whispered. "I know you are a prince, but remember to be happy as well. Let your wife make you happy."

_My wife? No, no, no, _he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't find his voice. He just nodded slightly. Lena smiled and pulled her hood up. "Goodbye," she said in a low voice.

He could feel her cloak brushing against his arm, when she drove her horse forward. She left quickly, at a gallop. It was as if she was in a hurry to get to something fast. Or getting away from something more like.

Hector watched her as she rode off. He was quiet and controlled; even though he felt something inside telling him that he had just lost something very precious. Still, he didn't obey the impulse in his heart to call for her, stop her and tell her those words he wanted to tell her. Those three very special words.

What difference would it make? He asked himself. That wouldn't change anything now. It was too late.

He watched her until her horse had disappeared beyond the horizon. Then he pulled a deep breath and turned his horse around. In a slow speed, he rode back into the city again, towards the castle, where his father and the boundless amount of duties awaited him.

* * *

You don't think this is the end do you? No, no, no.


	10. Chapter 9 Face to face

**Lilycup, Carlses, fele414, Priestess of the myrmidons, RC & Newmar fan: **Thank you so much for you reviews. It is really great to know that you are so engaged in what I am writing. And for heaven's sake, don't apologize for not liking Lena and/or her relationship with Hector. I want my characters to provoke feelings in people, whether negative or positive. I have asort of thinkthat you'll soon have more justification however... (Author smirking evilly).

I am sorry that it took me some time to update. I have been away for a while and there wasn't time to write anything before I left. Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter. For those of you who have been awaiting Andromache's arrival – here she comes.

**Chapter 9 – Face to face**

The sun sparkled from the cloudless sky this beautiful spring day by the beach of Troy. The light breeze made the waves of the majestic azure blue ocean dance and jump in a lively way before them. It was a perfect day as far as the weather was concerned. Still, Hector felt a chill down his spine and the wind suddenly seemed cold when he could finally make out the ship by the horizon.

A great mass of people had been gathered by the beach to receive their future queen. If it was out of curiosity or reverence, Hector didn't know, but they all seemed very enthusiastic and tried to get a better view as the ship approached their country.

Hector was standing with General Glaucus, Tecton and the apollonians who would be acting as guard of honour for the heir to the throne and his bride. His father the king and his mother were standing behind them, surrounded by their bodyguards. Hector still felt like he could sense his father's sharp eyes in his back. _"It's time to do your duty, son," _they said.

His mother's eyes seemed more compassionate. A few days before, she had found him standing by a window in the castle, gloomily staring out over the city. She had placed her delicate hand, which was covered with expensive rings on his shoulder.

"_Sometimes talking about it can be comforting," _she said gently.

But he had shaken his head. _"There is no comfort, mother." _

"_How can you be so sure?"_

"_Because I know." _His tone of voice was firm.

His mother sighed. _"Your wife will be arriving at anytime." _

"_I know..." _He hesitated, but managed to gain the courage to ask her. _"Mother, how do you survive?"_

She frowned slightly, but it was obvious that she knew what he was talking about.

"_You know what it is like," _Hector continued. _"How did you survive all those nights when father was not with you? When you knew that he was spending his nights with some other woman?"_

He knew that this wasn't a suitable topic of conversation. It was compromising to his father and disrespectful to his mother, but he just had to know. Queen Hecuba's face had become pale, but she didn't turn her eyes away in embarrassment. She pondered her son's words for a moment.

"_I have done what I must, Hector. Royalties are not like other people. We are born with a great number of privileges. But those privileges have a price." _

_Of course. Our duty, _Hector sighed to himself. He was sick of the word and did his best to forget about it when the ship finally reached the Trojan landing-stage. A gangplank was placed between the ship's side and the bridge.

The first person to descend was Paris. Unwillingly, Hector felt himself grinning towards his little brother. He realized how much he had missed him. Paris raised his hand and waved at his brother, but to Hector's surprise, he didn't run to embrace him like he used to. Instead, he turned back towards the ship and held out his hand to help the person who came after him down.

It was a woman, who held on to the hem of her skirt as she carefully set her feet down on the Trojan land for the first time, with Paris' hand firmly supporting her. The apollonians raised their horns to their lips and signalled. The people on the beach cheered loudly and suddenly, Hector realized that the woman who had just stepped down had to be his future wife, the Princess Andromache of Thebe.

She smiled in gratitude to Paris and released his hand. She took a moment to arrange her clothing before turning her eyes to gaze upon her new country and her countrymen for the very first time. As she did, Hector was able to casually appraise her appearance.

She was tall. That was something you couldn't help but notice. As a matter of fact, she was taller than many of the apollonian warriors who were gathered by the beach. Not taller than himself though, Hector realized with a reluctant sense of relief. She was also very slender and her form seemed smooth and strong at the same time.

Her hair first seemed dark brown, but a few sparkles from the sun caught some red streaks in the thick, wavy tresses. Her features were marked, her cheekbones high and her skin was pale and creamy. The nuance of her eyes was difficult to establish. It seemed to be somewhere between brown and gold, almost like amber.

Paris accompanied her towards the beach and Hector thought she resembled a smooth, lithe cat when she moved. Her white silky skirts flickered around her form and showed off her feet, dressed in elegant sandals. She held her head high and if she was nervous, she concealed it well. Her eyes roamed across the masses of people, but they quickly stopped when they found him. He could tell that she had immediately apprehended who he was, even before Paris had escorted her up to him.

His brother cleared his throat. "My dear brother," he said, somewhat huskily. "May I introduce your future bride, the Princess Andromache, only daughter of his grace King Eetion of Thebe."

Hector bowed deeply and Paris turned back to Andromache. "My Princess," he said. "This is my older brother, the crown Prince Hector of Troy."

She looked at him calmly for a moment, before returning his bow. "My lord," she said. "It's an honour."

"The honour is all mine, my lady," Hector assured her.

"You have a very beautiful country," she continued. "And I am deeply touched to see that so many of your people have come to greet me."

"I am sure you deserve it." Hector said.

Their words had been polite, but the real conversation took place silently. He could tell that she was assessing him, like he was her, and that she was trying to make out what sort of man he really was, behind his fancy Trojan armour. He wondered what her verdict would be.

He couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. He was unused to this situation. Women would usually address him shyly and modestly out of reverence for his birth and station. Andromache on the other hand, had approached him confidently and her words were calm and firm. It was obvious that she considered herself his equal.

And why wouldn't she? He asked himself in annoyance. Even if Thebe was a realm of far less power and significance than Troy, she was still the daughter of its king. She had a right to be pride and she had a right to assume that she was on the same level as any other royalty.

Priam and Hecuba had stepped forward to greet their future daughter in law. "My dear Princess," Priam said, smiling his most amiable smile. "I am so very pleased to welcome you to our shores. It is my ardent hope that you will have many happy years in my country."

The princess bowed deeply before the king and his wife. "You are too kind, your grace."

Priam turned towards his subjects and loudly declared. "My fellow Trojans, I am honoured to acquaint you to her royal highness, Princess Andromache of Thebe, the daughter of the gracious King Eetion. This lady shall be the wife of my son and your future queen. She has come a long way and I trust you will be as generous and loyal to her as I am sure that she will be to you."

The people cheered again and Priam continued: "The wedding between the princess and my son Hector will take place within a fortnight. I am sure their marriage will be happy and fruitful. Join me and welcome a new daughter of my house!"

This time, the cheers were ear-splitting. The Trojans seemed to accept their new princess without any hesitation. Andromache flashed them a radiant smile and gave them a most lady-like wave from her hand.

_She really knows how to carry herself, _Hector couldn't help but think as he watched her.

The ship was being unloaded and the rest of the Theban party had joined them on the beach. Andromache's ladies were curiously glancing towards the apollonian guards. Priam decided that they should head back for the city right away so that the travellers could get some rest.

Two horses, a black stallion and a red mare with saddles and reins decorated by silver and jewels were brought for the Prince and his future wife. Hector gallantly lifted Andromache into the saddle before mounting his own horse. Priam and Hecuba had taken place in a palanquin. Slowly, the party were making their way back to the town, escorted by the apollonians in their armours.

She seemed like a good horsewoman, he noticed approvingly as he glanced at Andromache who was riding by his side. She had a fine seat and reined the tempered little mare with practised hands. Well, if she liked horses, then he knew that they had something in common at least.

He held his own horse in a little and awaited Paris who was riding right behind them. "Well brother," he said quietly, smiling. "She wasn't quite the horse face you had expected, was she?" He nodded at Andromache's back.

He expected Paris to laugh as he always did, but to his surprise, his brother just smiled bleakly. "No, she wasn't." He was silent for a moment, before quietly adding. "Nothing was what I had expected really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." Paris hesitated, as if he wasn't sure what he was going to say. "The Theban court is so different from ours. They are much more open, much less stiff. And there was such a bond between the family members." He sighed. "Sometimes I just wish I wasn't a prince, Hector."

Hector was very surprised. That was what he used to think himself at some times when his duties felt too heavy to bear. But he had never heard Paris saying anything like that. After all, his brother wasn't the heir; he didn't have to deal with the responsibility of a country. He was young and free of restraints and Hector had always believed that he enjoyed his easy life.

He didn't know what to answer, so he just said the words he was expected to. "Don't deny your destiny, Paris."

Paris smiled and shook his head. "There you are again, big brother. Always singing the same song."

"I am just saying that you can't change who you are."

Paris nodded. "You are right. I can't. But that doesn't mean I can't wish."

There was a strangely grim look in his usually happy and cheerful face. Hector glanced at his brother in confusion.

* * *

"Would you care for a bath, my lady?" a young servant girl asked her new mistress.

The princess turned away from the mirror and smiled. "Maybe later, I think I need a little bit of rest at first."

"Of course," the girl said and bowed. "Just call for me if you need anything."

She left and the young princess was alone in her new realm. She casually glanced at the chamber she had been given. It was spacious and beautifully decorated and the balcony provided her with a lovely view over the city. Still, she knew that this wouldn't be more than a temporary residence. After the wedding, she would share her quarters with her new husband.

Andromache of Thebe sighed and pulled a hairpin out of her long hair. It felt good to be free of the great bun which made her feel like she was balancing a rock on her head. She had also been removed of her clothing and was dressed only in a thin dressing gown. She was indeed very tired after the long journey, but she still felt some tension in the pit of her stomach.

_Don't be a fool, _she told herself sternly. There was nothing to be nervous about. This was her fate; what she had been born to. Her father had told her that enough times.

"_A prince is the least you deserve," _he always used to say, with affection. _"A prince with a queen's crown to offer." _

Andromache cringed, somewhat cynical. Maybe her father really wanted what was best for her, but she knew that her marriage was about more than her personal happiness. Thebe was not a great nation; her lands and wealth were limited. And in her father's game to expand his realm, his daughter was no more than a piece.

However, she had never objected when her father had declared that it was time for her to wed. And when he promised her to Prince Hector of Troy, she had thanked him for making her such a splendid match. Troy was a great and powerful nation and an alliance would increase the influence and the prestige of Thebe.

Being sent away from her family and her country like a sack of flour could be considered both painful and very degrading, but Andromache had always known that this was what she was meant to do. It was her duty as it was for every other young princess. She was expected to be strong and so she had been when she said farewell to her loved ones and left her home. She wasn't sure of why, but she was fairly certain that she would never see them again.

She had been brave for the whole journey and defied her seasickness with courage those long and empty nights when she was resting alone on her bunk. She had held her head high as she set her feet on the Trojan shores for the first time and she had received the ovations from her new people with dignity. But what made her nervous had been...

Andromache sighed and twisted a fat curl around her finger, absent-mindedly. She had immediately been able to decide who her future husband was; anyone with eyes could make out the leader of the wolf pack. Her father had told her a lot of spectacular things about him and she couldn't say that he had been wrong.

Hector of Troy was considered the best warrior in his country. He was also called "The horse tamer," because of his skill with the great animals. The heir to the throne was considered an extremely promising young man who gave the people of Troy a great hope for the future.

Andromache was well aware of this, but she still couldn't keep those silly feelings from creeping up at her, when she spotted him for the first time. Those feelings were of disappointment. In some childish way, she felt dissatisfied with this tall warrior and his solemn face. She was disappointed that he wasn't as fine-looking as his younger brother Paris, whose smile could cut through ice. She also felt displeased that he didn't seem to share anything of Paris' lively and charming personality.

Their meeting had not been comfortable. They had both done their best to be amiable and polite, but the prince had clearly been just as bothered as she was. She didn't understand why. She was used to being around men. She had seven brothers and her father had raised her almost like one of them. But this formal, serious prince did not seem to be the kind of man you could feel at ease with.

However, Andromache knew better than judging someone after just a moment's acquaintance. Her first impression of Hector could turn out to be completely wrong. Maybe she was the problem? Maybe she wasn't the kind of woman he preferred. She shrugged. That was his problem, not hers. She would never change simply to meet his wishes.

Sighing, she pulled back the covers on the bed and lay down on her back, completely exhausted after a long day. She closed her eyes slowly and against her will, she felt the emotions moving inside her.

She longed for her father, for her mother, for her brothers, for her home, her country. This was not were she belonged. This was a stranger's room, a stranger's place. But she knew that she could do nothing to change the path her life had taken. This was where she would make her life. This would be her place and her home now. This was where she would marry and where her children would grow up.

She just wished that she had been allowed to choose _something _on her own.

* * *

Hector was standing by the window again. He just couldn't help himself; he was pulled there like a magnet. The city was dark and only a few lights lit up the houses that were spread around the palace. What he was looking for, he didn't know. He just felt the need to look.

He forced himself to think about his future wife for a moment. She was a handsome woman; there was no doubt about it. She wasn't pretty in that doll-like sort of way that characterized many young girls. Her beauty was more worthy, more discreet and despite her age, she seemed surprisingly mature.

He didn't know why she had made him feel so uncomfortable. She was undoubtedly pride, yes and maybe she was somewhat haughty. But that wasn't startling. She was after all a princess. You could not expect her to bear herself like a beggar girl when she was in fact the daughter of a king. Her behaviour was not different from his own or any other royalty's. They were usually sure of themselves; usually very well aware of the high position in life they had been born to.

Their brief introductions at the beach had not been enough to make Hector able to tell much about her personality. But there had been an intelligent look in her eyes and it must have taken quite a lot of courage to approach her new people in the way she had done, seemingly calm and unmoved. He didn't doubt that she was representative and knew how to act in greater societies. She would probably be a good support and honour him in the same way his mother honoured Priam.

Her confident way of addressing him might have surprised him, but on the other hand; what did he want from her? He didn't want some timid and easily frightened little ninny for a wife. A future Queen of Troy must be able to conduct herself with authority and dignity before her subjects. Hector had no doubt that Andromache of Thebe would make an impressive queen.

Then why couldn't he take pleasure in her arrival?

He sighed. The answer was quite easy: Because every time he looked at her, he felt guilt, because he wanted her to be someone else.

_Lena, Lena, Lena, Lena... _He cursed silently. His mother's well-meaning words had not been any help. She constantly followed him like a shadow and no matter how he tried; he couldn't help thinking about her.

All the time, he kept asking himself if she had made it to her village in safety? Would she be able to make a living there? What would happen to her; what would become of their child? He thought about Briseis for a moment. Her mother had been abandoned by her child's father. He had left them both to their own fate. And now he had done the same thing.

What if Lena wouldn't survive the birth, just like Briseis' mother? He shuddered. He knew that it had been her wish to have his child, but it didn't make any difference. If she would die, he would have killed her, as surely as if he had ran a dagger through her throat.

_Why did I let her go! _The question burned in his soul and tormented him. It kept him awake this long and cold night and kept spinning through his mind.

* * *

And in his chamber, Paris tired of his insomnia and called for a servant.

"Yes, my prince?" the older man said, yawning.

"Get me something to drink," Paris ordered him shortly.

"What do you want, my lord?"

"It doesn't matter; just make sure that it's strong."

The servant brought a bottle of the liquor and Paris settled down by the table. Ignoring the man's strange looks, he poured himself a cup and drank, in a desperate attempt to escape his dark thoughts and fall into the sweet forgetfulness of slumber.


	11. Chapter 10 Awkward relations

**Lilycup, RC & Priestess of the myrmidons: **Thanks for reviewing, I am glad you liked the portrayal of Andromache. About the question of how long I will go on... Well, I am not sure, but I am thinking around fifteen chapters plus an epilogue. Since the story is set as a flashback, it will not go on until the war has started.

**Chapter 10 – Awkward relations **

"Hector!"

The prince raised his eyes and brightened as he spotted his younger brother approaching him in the corridor. It made him happy that Paris sought his company. For some reason, it just didn't seem like they had been given any opportunity to talk privately since he came back from Thebe a week ago.

"I am glad you remember my existence, Paris," he said with slight irony.

Paris smiled lightly. "Missed me, have you?"

"It seems like you have disappeared off the face of the earth if you want to know what I think."

"Well, I haven't," Paris said. "I am here and I am your brother, like I always have been. Nothing will change that."

There was a strange empathy on his words and Hector frowned. "Well, since we have finally run into each other we must make the most out of it. Personally, I feel like going out and drown myself in wine. How about that?"

"Oh, a trip to Apollo's Lyre perhaps?" Paris grinned.

Hector immediately stiffened and his smile died. "No. Not that place," he said shortly.

Paris blinked in confusion. "Why not? That's always been our favourite place..."

"I just don't want to," Hector snapped. Then he managed to calm himself down. "Anywhere else. Just not that tavern. All right?"

Paris still looked dumbfounded, but he nodded his acceptance. "Very well. But it doesn't matter, since there won't be any tavern visit tonight. At least not for you."

"What do you mean?"

Paris face had a look of pity. "Father sent me to tell you that he wants you to take your bride out for a trip around the city. She is curious of her new fatherland. But something tells me that she would probably take the first ship back to Thebe if you tried to drag her into a place like that."

Hector smiled dryly. "That might be true." He sighed. "So that's father's command then?"

Paris nodded. "He wants you two to get to know each other a little better. The wedding will be in less than a week."

"Well, I suppose he is right," Hector sighed.

"Indeed he is," Paris said sharply. "You have not exactly been working hard to make her feel at home."

Hector reddened. "I just haven't had the time."

"Excuses, excuses," Paris shrugged. "Come now, Hector, I am sure she won't bite you."

"Well, if you say so," his brother sighed. "I guess I better do what father tells me then..." He stopped and looked closer at Paris. "Why don't you come with us?"

"Me?" Paris quickly shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not? You know every corner of this town as well as I do. Besides, you and the princess have already have had time to get acquainted."

Paris nodded. "Yes, that's right. But it's not _me _who is supposed to get acquainted to her. Father's orders were explicit. He wants you to accompany her. _Only _you."

Hector sighed again. "Well, I suppose I haven't much choice then." Cringing slightly, he added "You don't think she will keep me occupied for the whole day, do you?"

Paris face suddenly darkened. "Perhaps you should appreciate your good fortune a little bit more, brother," he snapped. Then he abruptly turned on his heel and stomped off in the opposite direction.

Hector stared after him with both confusion and guilt. He couldn't remember the day Paris had refused to share a joke, but he also realized that his brother was right. He had crossed the line. He had to stop hiding from Andromache and from his fate. Damn it, he wasn't afraid of her!

Angry at himself, he returned to his chambers and quickly changed to a riding suit. As he pulled on the sleeves of his tunic, he caught sight of the small ring on his little finger. He had kept there ever since she left... When her absence felt too hard, he used to glance down on it and find some sort of comfort in the gold and the sparkling sapphire. By wearing it, he felt like he was still sharing something with her, like he still held a piece of her.

"_I want you to have it. It would make me feel safer. Then I wouldn't have to fear for your sake."_

He shook his head slowly. He realized that the situation was becoming impossible. He couldn't go on as long as he kept thinking about her like this. He didn't just wear the ring; it wore him too. As long as he kept it, he held on to her and it kept him from doing what he had to do. It was time to let go of the past. Time to put it behind him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Briseis entered with an excited look on her face. "Hector! I heard you were going out riding?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Yes, that's right. I am going to show Princess Andromache our beautiful city."

"Oh..." She silenced and bit her lip. The disappointment in her face was apparent.

"What is it?" Hector asked her in surprise.

She looked up at him with displeasure. "I was hoping you would give me those riding lessons you have been talking about."

"Oh." Hector sighed silently. It was time for that argument again. "I am sorry, Briseis, but it's my father who has asked me to take the princess for a ride. He thinks we need to... Well, get to know each other a little better."

Briseis looked sulky and Hector couldn't help melting. "I am sorry," he said again. "But I can't do anything about it since it's my father's orders. I promise you I'll give you your lessons as soon as I have time."

The look on Briseis' face told him that she had heard the same thing before, but she forced herself to smile cheerfully. "All right, I understand. Where are you going to take her?"

"I am not sure," he answered. "But I am sure she wants to see as much of Troy as possible. And we want her to see all the lovely things we Trojans can offer, don't we?"

She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. I just wish I could go with you."

"So do I, Briseis," Hector said truthfully.

"But don't worry," she said, smiling. "I am sure you'll have a good time. Andromache seems like a really nice lady. I hope we can become good friends."

"Do you?" Hector asked her in amusement.

She nodded. "Of course. She gave me one of her necklaces and said I could keep it. She also promised to show me her collection of sea shells from Thebe some day."

"She did?" Hector said in surprise.

"Yes. She treated me like a grown lady, Hector, not some silly little child. I like that," She frowned a little. "But unfortunately she doesn't seem to know much about the gods. It is I who has to tell her."

"Oh, well, that's the most important quality of them all," Hector teased her as he fastened his arm bindings around his elbows.

He was more surprised that he wanted to admit. He had never expected the noble and refined princess of Thebe to take an interest in his little cousin. Especially not since she was a bastard who had been brought to this world through the union of a dishonoured princess and an unknown father. He would have thought that a high born lady like Andromache would have ignored her at best. Maybe she was looking to find allies in the palace?

Once again, he felt the need to glance down at his ring. Briseis noticed his movement. Her face softened. "You got that from Lena, didn't you?"

"How did you know that?"

"I used to see it on her finger. She said that it had all the powers of Artemis."

He frowned. "Did she? I thought it was a gift from her mother?"

Briseis looked surprised. "Well, I don't know, but that's what she told me. You miss her, don't you?" she asked him gently.

Hector sighed. "Yes, I do," he admitted.

"Well, don't worry. As long as you wear the ring you'll remember her."

"Yes, I will," Hector agreed and firmly pulled the ring off. "And that's the problem."

Briseis' eyes became wide. "Are you not going to wear it anymore? But it was a gift! And what if the ring really holds the powers of the goddess?"

"Then I shall have to do without those powers," Hector answered firmly. "I won't throw it away, but I can't wear it anymore. I just can't." Firmly, he placed the ring in a jewellery box.

Briseis still looked stunned. "I don't understand," she mumbled.

"I know you don't like to hear this," Hector said, smiling bleakly. "But you are probably too young to understand."

Andromache was waiting for him by the castle gate, wearing an elegant riding skirt with a cloak over her shoulder and her long hair tightly braided. Silver clasps sparkled from the thick tresses. "Are you ready to go?" Hector asked her.

She smiled smoothly. "I have been ready for a long time, my lord."

Her tone of voice indicated that he had let her wait, but Hector wasn't sure whether or not she meant to reproach him. He choose not to give her an answer and together, they headed for the stables, where two horses had been prepared for them. They both mounted and rode into the swarming streets of Troy.

* * *

Much later, they had made it to the sea. They had spent the latest few hours riding around the streets and tasting what Troy had to offer. Hector had felt a swell of pride as he showed her the city he had spent all of his life in. He had showed her every attraction, every sight and every place dear to him. In his eyes, there were no such magnificent town anywhere else in the world.

No one could argue that he didn't have an impressive realm to offer his bride. But even though Andromache clearly approved of what he had showed her, she didn't exactly seem ecstatic. She had showed a polite interest, but not much more. She didn't seem to be the kind of woman who was easy to impress.

Last of all, Hector had taken Andromache outside the city walls to his favourite watch point downside the temple of Apollo. It was a high rock with a fabulous view over the sparkling blue sea. The wind caught their hair as they stopped for a moment and let their horses catch their breaths.

"Do you come here often?"

Hector gave a start and turned towards Andromache who had been silent for a long time. "Yes, quite often," he said. "It has meant something special to me ever since I was a boy. It's just so relaxing to come her and let yourself be consummated by nature." He shrugged. "I find peace her."

She nodded slightly and Hector glanced curiously at her. "Did you have a place like this in Thebe?"

She shook her head. "No. I didn't need to go out searching for peace. I already had it." Her voice was distant and her eyes were aimed at the sea. Her thoughts were somewhere far away.

"Are you close to your family?" she suddenly asked him.

Her question surprised him. "Yes, I suppose I am. But my father..." He cringed slightly. "Well, he has always had his duties to consider. First of all, he is a king, only secondly a husband and father. But I guess you know what it's like?"

She nodded. "Yes, I do. My father has always been the king above all, just like yours." Then her face softened. "But even if I rarely saw him, I always knew that he would be there for me and for my brothers. There was never a time when I needed him that he wouldn't support me."

Her face was thoughtful, but then she smiled at him. "And what about your brother, my lord? Are you close to him?"

"Paris?" Hector said in amusement. "Yes, I am. We have always been best friends even though he is so much younger than I am. I guess I have been acting as a father to him as well in some ways, since his real father hasn't given him much of his time. But on the other hand, it's been rather hard to spend so much of my time with Paris, since he is what he is."

"What do you mean?" she asked him.

Hector raised his eyebrows, surprised that she would even ask such a question. "I mean, because he always getting himself into trouble," he explained. "He is impulsive and refuses to take responsibility. And I am usually the one who has to clean up his messes."

Andromache didn't answer for a long time. "Oh," was all she said.

"Is it possible that he actually did his duty and behaved when he came to Thebe?" Hector asked her. "Did you not see those sides of him?"

She smiled lightly. "Yes... yes, maybe I did."

Hector glanced at her. He was starting to feel tired of her distantness and her cryptic answers. But before, he had a chance to ask her anything else; she took the reins and turned her horse the way back to Troy. Hector had no other choice but to follow her.

He reflected upon whether or not his father's idea had been successful. It was difficult to decide. They had managed to spend a few hours in each other's company and at least that was something positive. But even if they had finally managed to start some conversation, the atmosphere between them had mostly been awkward. He just didn't know why they both had to be so damn stiff the whole time!

Before Hector had managed to find an answer to that question, they both heard a call. "Hector! Hector!" They both looked up in surprise. It was Paris who were approaching them in a wild gallop. His horse was panting heavily and its sides were soaked in sweat. The hoofs were kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.

"That is no way to treat a horse," Hector said sternly as his brother stopped in front of them. "Do you want to kill him? Why can't you ever learn to..."'

"Never mind the horse," Paris spat.

"Well, you could at least have taken the time to fasten the saddle girth properly. And just look at the reins! Haven't I told you a thousand times not to..."

"Damn it, would you listen to me," Paris exclaimed in anger.

Hector glared at him, but calmed down. "Take time to collect your breath, my lord." Andromache said calmingly.

Paris looked gratefully at her. He pulled a deep breath. "You must come back to the palace immediately. It's a crisis!"

"Well, what is wrong then?" Hector asked in concern. _Not father, not yet..._

"It's Briseis," Paris answered, his voice distraught. "She is vanished!"


	12. Chapter 11 An unexpected meeting

**Author's note: **Ok, this is the chapter I've been dreading ever since I started writing and one of the reasons why I thought this story might deservea higher rating. I won't reveal anything, but there will be a bit of a "shocker" in the end and I want to warn sensitive readers.

I am of course very interested in your thoughts and opinions about this chapter. If you don't like it, that's fine and if you think I am mentally ill, I will accept it. But PLEASE take it easy with the flames until you have read the next chapter, ok? I suppose you can tell that I am a little worried about this; I even seriously considered changing the outcome of the story, but I decided to stick with my original idea, despite everything. (Sound of author ripping her hair out by the roots). Anyway, I am sorry for this rant. Just read it and let me know what you think.

**Chapter 11 – An unexpected meeting**

There was a grim atmosphere surrounding the great hall in the palace. The king of Troy, his wife, their sons and their future daughter-in-law all looked stiff and very bothered. They were discussing in tight, strained voices.

"It could be possible that she has gone to a temple," Hector said. "You know how interested she is in the gods."

Priam nodded. "I have already sent Tecton to check in both Poseidon's and Apollo's temple. If she has gone there, he will find her. But..." He glanced at his wife.

"I don't think she would leave the palace without permission," Hecuba said. "She has done it before, but then I warned her against doing it again. She wouldn't be disobedient another time."

"Wouldn't she?" Paris said, smiling bleakly. "She is a child, mother. They like to test their limits."

"Yes, you should know that," Priam said, glancing dryly at his youngest son.

"No, I think mother is right," Hector said. "She wouldn't be so foolish. But are you really sure that she is not still in the palace? Gods should know there are enough chambers and corridors here to get lost even for one who has lived here her whole life."

"Searching through the palace was the first thing I did," Priam answered. "There was no sign of her. Of course, you can never be certain, but if she was still here, then I think she would have appeared again by now."

"But no one has seen her leave the castle?"

"No," Priam said, frowning. "That is rather strange. No one has seen her at all for hours."

"Have you talked to her teachers? The nursemaids?" Hector asked.

"Yes, I have and the teacher was furious because she never showed up for her lessons." Priam sighed. It wasn't the first time Briseis found something more interesting to do than attend boring classes with grey-haired old men. "The nursemaid swears she hasn't seen the girl since this morning when she helped her get dressed. She said she was going to talk to you, Hector."

"Yes, she did," Hector remembered. "That was right before I went for a ride with Andromache."

"What did you talk about?" Hecuba asked.

Hector shrugged. "Nothing in particular really. She wanted me to give her some riding classes, but there wasn't time. And then it was the..." He stopped himself as he realized that Andromache was in the room. "Just some minor things, nothing more."

"Did she seem strange?" Paris asked.

Hector shook his head. "No, not at all."

A silence fell over the group. They were all deeply troubled. Something about this just didn't seem right and their concern was increasing.

Suddenly the door to the hall was opened and Tecton entered, followed by some men from the apollonian guard. Everybody stood up at once. Tecton had barely had time to bow for the royalties, before Priam attacked him like a hawk.

"Well?" he said sharply. "Did you find her?"

Tecton looked miserable. "No, my lord," he answered. "I am sorry, but there was no sign of the young lady Briseis, neither in Apollo's or Poseidon's temple."

"Did you ask the priests and the maids if they had seen her?" Hector asked him.

"Yes I did, my lord, but they I am afraid they could not help me."

The group was silent once more, Finally Priam raised his voice again. "I understand. Thank you, Tecton, that would be all."

Tecton bowed deeply again. "Your grace," he said and left.

The royal family were left alone with their concern. "Well, then there is just one thing to be done," Hector declared. "We have to start searching through the town for her. We better start right away."

Priam shook his head. "It's already dark. It's too late to start tonight. Better start at first light tomorrow instead. "

"But father..." Paris started.

"You better listen, son," Priam said coldly. "Going at this time could be dangerous." Paris was forced to accept, but there was a harsh expression on his face. "I'll let Glaucus send out the apollonians," Priam continued. "And I'll alert the city guards."

"I'll go with them," Hector said.

"And me," Paris said.

"Me too," Andromache added.

Surprised, Hector turned towards his future bride, who had barely spoken a word up until now. "No one is asking you to join us, my lady," he said. "We couldn't demand that from you."

"There is nothing to demand. Of course I want to participate."

Hector felt slightly embarrassed. "That is very kind of you," he started. "But this is a family problem and you don't have to trouble yourself."

Andromache turned her head and gave him a look that could have turned him into an ice statue. "Am I not going to be a part of this family?" she asked him coldly.

Hector blushed and realized that he had been stupid. "Yes, of course, my lady," he mumbled. "We are grateful for your help."

She nodded shortly and announced that she was going to retire for the night. Paris quickly offered to escort her, which she accepted. Hector thought he could sense his father's hard eyes on him. He was not happy with the way he had been acting towards his new bride.

Queen Hecuba declared that they had all better get to bed and her husband and son agreed. Before leaving the room, Hector and Priam had a quiet conversation. "Do you think Briseis has been abducted?" Hector asked. This was the question that had been eating his mind ever since he found out about her disappearance. He remembered his own recent experience and shuddered by the thought.

Priam sighed. "I guess it is the most logical explanation. I just can't imagine that she would ever run away from home."

"No, nor can I," Hector said.

"Then we'll probably have a message concerning a ransom soon."

Hector nodded. "Yes, but how could they possibly get into the palace and kidnap her? This place is crawling with guards."

"Maybe they didn't have to kidnap her," Priam said grimly. "Maybe they tricked her into coming with them. She is a trusting child."

Hector nodded. "Yes, you are right."

Priam was silent for a while. Then he suddenly hid his face in his hands. "Oh gods, Hector," he moaned in a voice that almost sounded choked. "If they have hurt her... or worse... Then I shall have to face my sister, knowing that I have betrayed my vow... In this life and the next..."

Hector hurriedly placed his hand on his Priam's shoulder. "None of this is your fault, father," he assured him. "And there is no need to assume the worst yet."

"But where is she?" Priam asked him, distraught.

Hector encouragingly pressed his father's hand. "We'll start searching in the morning. We'll find her. Somehow we will."

* * *

Andromache sat absolutely still as the servant girls prepared her for the night. Her eyes were aimed at nothing, her back was straight and her knuckles tightly closed. There was a storm raging inside her, but she told herself that she mustn't let any of it show. The girls could not know; a princess did not display her feelings in front of her servants.

The girls pulled the clasps out of her hair and started arranging her hair for the night; they washed her face and her hands and pulled her jewelleries off. She was quiet and didn't object, even though her hair hurt and she knew that she could have done it all by herself in less than five minutes.

When they had helped her into her nightgown, she had enough and declared that she could take care of the rest without help. The girls looked slightly shocked but left her without protests. When they left, Andromache let out a long, angry sigh and started to comb her long hair with forceful strokes.

Who did that man think he was? She asked herself furiously. Who did he think she was? Some silly little milk wench who couldn't even think properly? She couldn't remember when she had last felt so offended in her life. The mere thought made her want to slap him hard.

Did he think she was too stupid or too fragile to go for a simple ride in town? For gods' sake, a child had disappeared and he thought she was going to sit by and wait! Taking part in the search wasn't going to kill her.

But even worse had been his comment about a "family problem". He had talked about her like she wasn't counting. It had hurt her more than she wanted to admit. Did he really think so little of her? Didn't he think that she would care for his little cousin? She just couldn't believe that he would insult her like that, right in front of his father.

What kind of man was she going to wed?

Andromache had to admit that she might be a little bit unfair. She knew that it couldn't be easy for him either. Her presence clearly made him uncomfortable, but up until now, he had done his best to be polite and gracious to her. Maybe she hadn't appreciated it like she ought to. After all, _he _had not had anything to say about their arranged marriage either, no more than she had.

For the millionth time since Andromache came to Troy, she told herself that she had to be patient. Things would surely get better; she needed to look at things from the bright side. It could have been worse. At least Hector wasn't an evil man or a drunkard. He did not seem like the kind of man who took pleasure in causing other people pain.

The problem was just that she didn't want to marry. A bad lie, her mind immediately told her. Yes, she did want to marry. But what did her wishes have to do with anything? Nothing at all. She wasn't allowed to decide if she would be married or no. She wasn't allowed to decide _who _she was going to marry. But she wished she was, so much.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a servant girl knocked the door and entered. "My lady," she said, bowing. "The queen wishes to speak to you."

* * *

The streets of Troy were crowded as always. Merchants and peddlers were loudly offering their wares to matrons carrying baskets and screaming babies. Beggars and pocket thieves were lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment. Horses and carriages tried to make their way through the masses of people.

Hector dried the sweat off his brow. He was starting to feel very hot and tired, but even more nervous and uncomfortable. The search for Briseis had started at dawn, even before the sun was up. Hector had taken a few men to search through the western side of the city; General Glaucus the eastern, Paris the south and Tecton and Andromache the north.

They had agreed on a signal they would play if anyone found anything, but so far Hector had heard nothing. No more than he had found anything. The whole day, he had been asking people if they had seen her; he had checked every building that even _resembled _a temple. He had even looked twice on every female child he had clapped is eyes on. But to no avail.

As much as he wanted to deny it, Hector's worry was increasing and he began to suspect that they had reasons to believe that something serious had happened to Briseis. And he knew that his father had been right; she would never run away from home. That just had to mean that she had been abducted against her will.

The thought made him furious. What sort of people would kidnap an innocent child? It was such an unbelievably coward act that he just couldn't believe it. If they hurt her... He didn't even want to think about it, but he couldn't help himself. In his mind, he visualized sharp knives, branding irons, he heard his cousin screaming.

He shuddered by the thought. "Well, keep looking!" he snarled at his men who were starting to look like dead lizards.

But the hours went and Hector was beginning to despair. The state of uncertainty was the worst of all. He knew nothing and there was nothing he could do even though Briseis could be hurt... or worse.

"My lord!" one of his men suddenly called out.

Hector raised his eyes. Three apollonians approached him, pushing a man before them. "The man had this on him." The warrior showed him a small bracelet in silver. Hector recognized it. It had once belonged to Priam's sister. "Didn't Lady Briseis use to wear this?" the observant man asked.

"Yes that's right," Hector mumbled and turned to the man, the warriors were holding on to.

His eyes went wide. The man was tall and stocky with a dark mane of hair and beard. He was familiar. Hector felt a shudder down his spine as he remembered the sensation of the whip hitting his bare back. The pain and the humiliation. And the man who had been behind it was the one standing in front of him now. The man known as Nikos.

The man smiled bleakly. "We meet again, my lord."

By the thought of Briseis, Hector felt a wave of fury and he quickly dismounted. "Where is she?" he snapped. "What have you done to her?"

"Who?"

Hector struck him hard with the back of his hand. "You know who I am talking about! My cousin, Briseis. You will tell me now where she is!"

"I don't think so," the man said, in a surprisingly smug tone of voice.

"You better talk right now if you want a quick and easy death," Hector warned him. "And if you have harmed my cousin, I'll fry your guts on a stick!"

The man just smiled knowingly. In frustration, Hector turned to his men. "We'll take him back to the castle. The dungeon should loosen his tongue."

The men had grabbed Nikos' arms and prepared to obey, when they were interrupted. "Wait," a voice said and a female form with a veil covering her hair approached them. "Let him go," she firmly ordered the apollonians and to Hector's surprise, they immediately obeyed.

"What do you think you are..." He stopped because the men didn't react. They were just staring in front of themselves, almost like they had been bewitched. The woman turned around and Hector's voice was caught in his throat.

The veil covered her raven hair, but he would have recognized her face and her eyes anywhere. Right in front of him was the woman he had thought he would never see again. And for once she was not looking at him with affection or admiration. There was a cold and determined expression in Lena's face which he had never seen before. She appraised him wordlessly.

Hector was going to open his mouth; he wanted to ask her what she was doing here, why she had come back again, what she was doing with Nikos, but he suddenly couldn't speak a word. Suddenly, he was unable to do anything else except staring at her. It wasn't just the expression in her face that shocked him.

Her eyes were as violet blue and beautiful as always. But there was something about them that he had never noticed before. The blue colour was sharp and almost piercing. It was as if its owner could see through anything.

Hector only knew one more person in the world who had such eyes. And that was his father, King Priam of Troy.

"_Lena, I don't know... It is ridiculous... But sometimes you seem so familiar to me, like I have met you somewhere before. Why is that, do you think?"_

In a complete state of shock, he mutely watched her as she slowly raised one of her hands. There was a sparkle of purple fire shooting from her fingers and she mumbled something inaudibly. Suddenly, Hector's throat felt constricted. His limbs felt like water and he was unable to stand up.

_Who are you? _He wanted to scream as he sank to the ground, but not a sound came from his lips.

And besides, he already knew.


	13. Chapter 12 A brutal awakening

**Author's note: **Thank you for all of your lovely reviews. I am relieved that no one seems to think that I need to be institutionalized yet. I am afraid I don't have time to answer everyone personally today, but for you who had specific questions:

**Fele414: **Well, I don't really consider this story a Hector/ Andromache romance. This is more of a Hector character development. But of course, Andromache must have played a great part in his maturity so I'll try to explore their relationship a little bit more in the remaining chapters.

**Hecuba2: **Yes, I know that they didn't have guns back then. However, if you read the chapter again, I am sure you'll see that there was not a fire weapon in sight.

This chapter might be a little bit messy. If anything is confusing, please let me know and I'll try to explain it better in the next chapter.

**Chapter 12 – A brutal awakening**

Everything was darkness. His body. His mind. His spirit. Everything that surrounded him. He had no idea where he was or how he had ended up at this place. He felt something hard and solid brushing against his back. It was probably a wall, but that was about all that his dull senses could make out.

At least he had not been bound; he could feel his hands and his arms and he was able to move them freely. Nothing seemed to shackle his legs or his feet either. But it didn't matter, since he was unable to use any of his appendages. When he tried to rise to his elbows, he felt an intense pain in his muscles; almost like cramps and he had to fall back to the ground, panting heavily.

That was when he suddenly discovered a glimmer of light in the obscurity that surrounded him and he could make out a human form before him. He didn't have to look twice to realize who it was. Had he not heard her enter the cell? Or maybe she didn't have to open doors to get in? What did he know?

Lena watched him flatly with her arms crossed over her chest. "Good morning, my lord," she said coolly.

Hector gazed up at her in disbelief. In his current shocked and dazzled state, there was only one reasonable question that he could think of. Not that reason had anything to do with this, but still. "Why did you do it?" he asked her hoarsely.

She looked at him like she couldn't believe that he was really that stupid. "For Troy of course," she said.

In complete incredulity, he watched her, this woman who he had trusted with his life and that he had let into his life and his soul. He saw her face with her blue eyes. Those eyes that he had spent hours gazing into. But now, they had a completely new meaning and the full realization almost made him feel nauseous.

"It's not possible," he whispered slowly. "You were standing in front of him... He would have recognized you... My father wouldn't..."

She tossed her head and smiled grimly. "_Our _father, you mean. Do you really think that old man is capable of keeping track of all the women he has bedded and left with bastards over the years?" She snorted contemptuously. "That is his misfortune. He is too used to getting what he wants. He should have realized that some women wouldn't let him use them and throw them away unpunished." She looked sharply at him. "My mother was such a woman."

"Your mother..." Hector mumbled. "Who was she?"

Lena crossed her arms and a hard expression appeared on her face. "I told your cousin about the woman who taught me about Artemis, didn't I? I just neglected to mention that the woman was my mother. She was a priestess of the goddess; the greatest one that was ever born. The power of her blood was strong, as it is in me." Her eyes glowed as she spoke.

Still dazed, Hector shook his head and tried to take in what she had told him. "How did it happen... When?"

"A few years before after you were born," she answered. "His wife had miscarried and he was not welcome in her bed at the moment. That was why he brought my mother to the castle and used her for his pleasure. Until she became with child, of course. Then he had her sent away."

She made no effort to hide her resent for the man who had fathered her. Hector looked at her, doubtfully. "My father is an honourable man. He would take responsibility for his actions."

"Oh. Lena scoffed and took a few steps in the cell, like she was trying to keep her anger and bitterness under control. "Of course he gave her a few coins to sooth his conscience. As if that was what she needed. Like she was some common harlot from the streets." She closed her fists tightly by the thought of how her obviously adored mother had been treated.

Hector tried to think clearly, even though he felt like his mind had been hit by a huge rock. "So you are doing this because you want to take revenge on my father?"

She pinched her lips closely together. "No, I only want what is mine and I mean to take it. It was my mother's last wish and I intend to honour her."

Hector shook his head in confusion. "Then I don't understand why you wanted me to send you away. Wouldn't it be better to stay as my mistress? Then you would at least have had some influence..."

"Oh, by Artemis!" Lena exclaimed. She approached him and her eyes narrowed. "Are you really that naive? Do you think I would settle with being your bedfellow? Do you think I would settle with a place in the shadows?" She straightened her back and spoke with dignity. "My mother was made to be a queen, Hector and so am I. A priestess of Artemis' rightful place would be by the king's side, instead of standing quietly behind him like your insipid mother! She was born to rule, to lead. Just like I am."

Hector stared at her, unable to take his eyes off her. He didn't understand how he could ever have believed that she was an insignificant girl from the countryside. Why had he not seen the truth when he looked at her? It was almost painfully obvious that she was his father's daughter. She had his majestic bearing and his natural eloquence with words. She was the daughter of a king and a priestess and her pride radiated from her like the light from the sun. _The sun god's sister..._

She looked like Priam too, Hector realized, even if her hair was darker. He and Paris had always looked more like their mother, but Lena's features spoke of their mutual father. And her eyes; those eyes that could pierce through anyone. She could not have inherited them from anyone else but the king of Troy.

He though of the times they had spent together. He had cherished those memories and considered them some of the most peaceful and relaxed moments of his life. He felt sick as he realized that it had all been a lie. She had had a special reason for being with him. And he had walked straight into her trap without thinking twice.

His eyes roamed across her form. Her body still didn't reveal anything, but he knew that she had gotten what she wanted from him. And soon it would start showing.

"The child..." he mumbled, questioningly.

She shrugged casually. "It seemed like the best way to claim the throne. When you are gone, he will be the new heir. I shall take my place as his regent until he has grown up. And as soon as I have gotten our father and everyone else out of the way, the kingdom will belong to me."

The callousness of her tone made Hector momentarily speechless. Was this the woman he had admired for her warmth and sincerity? She talked about murder like she had been discussing the weather. In complete incredulity, he shook his head.

"It might have escaped your notice," he started sarcastically, "but my father has another son but me."

"That boy," she snorted. "I wouldn't even have to seduce him to render him completely harmless."

Her voice sounded knowing and Hector frowned. He waited for her to continue, but much to his surprise, her face softened. She moved close to him and placed her hand against his cheek, even though he tried to pull away.

"Hector," she said gently. "I may not love you, but I don't hate you either." She caressed his face slowly as she continued: "You are not a bad person, but you have proved yourself unworthy of being the protector of Troy. You lack the ability to keep the city safe. You don't have the strength."

He blinked in disbelief. "Oh but you do?" he said ironically as he let his eyes follow her tiny form and her delicate limbs.

Lena's face reddened and she tossed her head as she backed away from him. "Why do some people think that strength has anything to do with a person's body? That is a fool's notion."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I think any man would agree with me."

"Man or fool; that is simply two different words for the same thing," she said dismissively "I was not talking about the strength of your muscles, Hector, though I'll freely admit that you might have a slight advantage over me in that respect." She looked at him, sharply. "What I was talking about was the strength of mind, the strength of soul. And in those terms, my advantage is boundless."

Impulsively, she moved close to him again. Her face was glowing with excitement.

"Don't you understand?" she asked him fervently. "I am not doing this for personal glory. I am doing this for the sake of my people. My blood has not been soiled and infected by some inbred foreign princess. The blood in my veins is pure. _Trojan._" There was an almost fanatic sparkle in her eyes. "And I have the power of Artemis. That's why I will succeed where you would have failed."

He frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She looked closely at him. "I see everything, Hector. One day, there will be enemies sailing against our country. They will strike hard against our city. You would not be able to defend her. Your life would be taken by a superior enemy and our walls would fall. I cannot let that happen."

He looked at her in astonishment. He wanted to ask her more; make her tell him about these enemies, but he realized that it would be the same as giving her the upper hand. He wasn't going to believe anything she said. All she had ever told him had been lies, so why should he believe her now? She was probably just trying to fool him again and he wasn't going to let her do it another time.

He closed his eyes and tried to control himself. "Where are we?" he asked her.

She hesitated. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter if I tell you. We are by the beach, in a cave just under your favourite viewpoint."

Hector's eyes suddenly widened as he recalled the reason why he had been out for a ride in the first place. "What about Briseis? Why did you capture her?" Of course, he had no way to know that they _had _captured her, but he was still certain of it.

"Oh," Lena shrugged indifferently. "A mistake, that's all. If only the little fool hadn't been stupid enough to try the ring on..."

"The ring?" Hector repeated. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Lena shook her head and smiled, almost with pity. "You still don't understand, do you?" she said gently and sighed. "Don't you remember that I told you that the ring was from my mother? Its power enabled me to feel your presence and see what you were doing. It would have helped me capture you."

He gawked at her, completely amazed by her cold calculation. She smiled knowingly and nodded.

"I realized that I had to hurry since your wedding would take place in a week or so. I didn't want any competition for my son. So I went to the palace..."

"But Briseis showed up instead of me." Hector guessed grimly

"I am afraid so." She sighed sympathetically. "That child is far too wilful for her own good, Hector. As you can understand, I couldn't allow her to tell anyone that she had seen me so there really wasn't any choice for me but to take her with me."

"But I don't understand... How could you possibly get into the palace and..."

"You underestimate me, my dear Hector," Lena said in amusement. "That has always been your problem. I have the power to bend peoples' will after my own. And you forget that practically all of the guards in the castle knew me. They wouldn't protest, no more than your little cousin would."

Hector clenched his teeth so tightly together that he thought they were going to break. "Where is she now?"

"In a house in the city," she answered. "Nikos was going to bring her here, but of course the fool managed to bump into your apollonians. He is about as discreet as a pregnant sow."

He stared at her as he remembered the part the black-haired man had played. "Nikos? Was that scoundrel behind this from the start? Did he plan this?"

Lena looked at him, deeply offended. "Do you seriously believe that a _man _could have thought of something like this?" She scoffed. "No, just like you, he was in my hands and I formed him like a lump of clay."

"But when I met you... It just seemed so real." He swallowed tightly, unable to grasp the fact that it had all been a ploy.

She smiled mildly. "It _was _for real, Hector. Most of the things I told you were true. I did grow up in that village I talked about and I did come with him to Troy when he passed by. And I was everything I displayed to you then; the obedient little woman who did everything for her man. He just didn't understand that I always had the power over him. But now he does and he has proved quite useful along with his good friends."

"But soon you'll find some more practical way to use him, won't you?" Hector grimly guessed.

"You must always have an open mind," she said casually, but silenced as she heard the sound of voices from somewhere behind them. "Oh, I think they are back now, with your sweet little cousin."

Desperate, Hector made an attempt to speak sense into her. "Lena, for gods' sake... If there is any spark of honour left in your heart, let her go. Do whatever you want with me, but keep her out of this. She has done nothing wrong. She is just an innocent child and she can't be held responsible for..."

"Innocent?" Lena repeated. "Well she might be at the moment, but the time will come when she will commit the greatest sin of all."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I said, I see everything with the eyes of Artemis, Hector. She will fraternize with the enemy and give herself to one of them. She is nothing but a traitor – just like her mother."

"Her mother!" Was there no ending to the shocks she was going to give him? He asked himself.

Lena sighed. "Oh, Hector, must I spell everything out to you before you'll understand. Her father was a Greek, just like those Spartan pigs at the tavern that night. She deceived her family and her country and the gods cursed her for it. That was why she died." Her eyes narrowed. "Artemis would never protect a traitor. And Briseis is apparently her mother's daughter."

"You can't punish her for her parents' actions." Hector hissed heatedly.

"For the sake of Troy, I'll do anything. Artemis has earned a great sacrifice." She smiled smoothly. "And even if she is just a mindless little girl, it is no more than right that your cousin will join you on the altar."

So far, Hector's body had felt numb, but now an immense fury came over him. He lashed out at her with his arm. He wanted her in his hands. He wanted to remove that smug look from her face. He wanted to tear her to pieces. He wanted to kill the woman who had been his lover.

But he still had no powers and he fell on his stomach on the ground, barely able to breathe. The pain in his chest felt like it was pressing all the air out of his lungs. His powerlessness and degradation burned on his cheeks.

He heard her laugh quietly, somewhat compassionate. "Hector, please don't insult my intelligence. I could strangle you with my bear hands and you would die like a helpless child. The spell is strong."

She turned away from him when the sound of Nikos' voice reached her ears. Some sort of door was opened behind her and Nikos' great form was suddenly visible in the light.

"My lady!" he panted.

Lena frowned as she realized that he was alone. "Well, where is the girl?"

Nikos looked miserable and shook his head. "My lady, I am sorry... we were in a crowd... The girl fled..."

Lena's unmoved face was suddenly contorted with rage. "Imbeciles!" she cried. "You let her get away! With the city crawling with soldiers?"

"I am so very sorry, my lady," Nikos said quickly. "We couldn't follow her through the masses of people. The girl was so small that she could crawl under the horses' bellies and vanish." He made a pathetic gesture with his hands.

"Find her at once!" Lena spat threateningly. "Bring her here or I will have you all castrated!"

She indicated that she would concoct the spell right away if he didn't hurry and Nikos nodded. "At once, my lady." And he vanished again.

Lena sighed and tried to calm down. "If you want something done, you have better take care of it on your own," she muttered to herself. Then she composed herself and turned back to her prisoner. "A minor problem, nothing more. This will be dealt with. I'll be back."

She left and the space was once again completely darkened. Hector looked distantly into the blackness that surrounded him. He was dazzled after what he had learned from Lena, but at the moment, he couldn't think of himself. Only about his young cousin who had been brought into this even though she had done nothing wrong.

_Go back to the palace Briseis, _he thought frantically. _For gods' sake, get home in safety!_


	14. Chapter 13 Reality and illusion

**Lily, Gaby and moonrider: **Thank you for reviewing. I wish I could update more often, but I am a wreck of stress at the moment.

**Michelle: **Thank you for your compliments. Nice to hear that you liked the hints about Briseis' background. That might have a greater importance in the story...

**Queen Arwen: **Of course I am sorry to hear that you haven't reviewed before, but I don't blame you. I am usually not to fond of H/OC:s myself. Anyway, I am glad that you finally gave me a comment and I'll try not to disappoint you.

**Lilycup: **Yes you are probably right. Lena might feel that she has some reasons for what she is doing, but she is probably not completely sane.

**Priestess of the myrmidon: **I have nothing to add. She is bad. And worse will she get...

**Chapter 13 – A line between reality and illusion**

He kept thinking about Briseis. Would she make it back to the palace? Was she clever enough to avoid the open streets were she would easily be caught? Hopefully, she would bump into one of his men. He asked himself what had happened to the apollonians who had been present when he was captured. Had the spell killed them all or were they still alive?

Since he didn't know how they had brought him here, he had no way of knowing if anyone had seen them. But he was clear sighted enough to realize that it would be difficult for anyone to find this place. He had never discovered the cave before so why should anyone else? No, he realized grimly. He had better not hope for anything.

The thoughts of Lena made him squirm with shame, but he couldn't keep them out of his head. She was his _sister_ for gods' sake even if she was only half blood. He closed his eyes in shame. What a sly trap she had lured him into. If only he hadn't been such a blind fool...

He had committed incest when he bedded his father's daughter, even if he had been unaware of her true identity. He knew that he wasn't the first man who had lain with a closely related woman though. The royal lines were tightly entwined and he had heard rumours that some royal houses were so inbred that their blood had grown weak and that their children were born sickly and deformed. Some Greek tale even spoke of a king who had married his mother.

But he was the Prince of Troy! He had always considered himself stronger and cleverer than many other men. That was what he was supposed to be; what he had to be considering his position. He was supposed to be unmoved and unaffected and he wasn't supposed to let anyone have any power over him. And still that seven times accursed little adder had managed to outwit him so easily. She had been right. He _had _underestimated her and now he had to pay dearly for it.

He closed his eyes tightly as he thought about what a powerful weapon he had provided her with. A weapon she would use against his very own family. And he had given it to her freely and with pleasure. _If only I could turn back time, _he thought, distraught.

The door was suddenly opened and Lena stepped in. She greeted him cheerfully, but there was a smooth look in her face that Hector didn't like. She was up to something, he could tell. And he wasn't really sure that he wanted to know what it was. She seemed excited and by now he had learned that it wasn't a good sign.

"Briseis..." he asked her slowly and carefully.

She just smiled and shook her head. "Not yet, I am afraid." Turning towards the door, she loudly ordered: "Bring it in!"

Two men brought in a huge kettle full of some kind of steaming liquid. They put it down in the middle of the small dark space. Lena commanded them to leave and they obeyed her without any objections. Lena took a ladle and poured into the boiling liquid for a moment, before raising her head back to Hector.

"I have had a slight change of heart, Hector. You may not have to be presented as a sacrifice to the goddess after all. There might be a smoother way to arrange this. Killing two birds with one stone so to speak."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean you might not have to end up on the altar."

He shook his head. "If you are going to spare anyone; let it be Briseis."

"Spare?" She laughed shortly. "I am afraid you misunderstood me. And your little cousin is beyond saving. It is my duty to relieve the world of a traitor like her."

"Lena..." Hector began through clenched teeth. "You are forgetting one small detail in your shrewd plan. I am your half-brother and Briseis is your cousin. If you kill us, you'll be a kin slayer. The gods will curse you for that."

That didn't seem to bother her. She used one of her slim hands to pull her air away from her face and smiled. "I am sure Artemis will be indulgent, considering the fact that I will be saving hundreds of Trojan lives." Her eyes narrowed slowly. "And as far as kin slaying is concerned, I don't think you would be a stranger to such an act, Hector. No more than other members of your family would."

"What do you mean?" he asked her sharply.

"Let me show you."

She smiled sweetly and moved closer to the kettle again. Hector stiffened involuntarily and she chuckled. "Oh, don't worry; I do not intend to boil your sweet little cousin alive in this thing today."

She brought out a small pouch from the pocket of her dress. It contained some reddish sort of powder that had a sharp scent. In a slow movement, she sprinkled the power into the boiling kettle. Almost immediately, giant bubbles started to form in the liquid and a great, purple and damp cloud of smoke lit up the obscure space.

The smell from the kettle filled the air and made Hector cough and sent tears falling from his eyes. It was ten times stronger than the incense that was used in the temples. Lena on the other hand seemed completely unmoved, even though she was standing practically inside the steamy cloud.

She smiled slowly. "Now I am going to demonstrate a foretaste of my powers to you, my dear. Just sit back and enjoy the performance."

_As if I could go anywhere, you spiteful little witch, _Hector thought grimly. His muscles still felt like water and now he could hardly even breathe in the scent that filled the space completely.

Lena started to mumble something in a low and methodical voice. Hector couldn't recognize any words but her tone was very firm. She moved her hands over the kettle in circles. The liquid seemed to be boiling harder and the smoke thickened. Hector stared at her in disbelief. Then he realized that she was trying to conjure something up. But what was that? And why?

She raised her head to him again. "I suppose you think that your family is worrying sick for your sake. Well, let's have a look, shall we?"

An explosion was suddenly heard; almost like a flash followed by a thunderbolt. Hector stared at the purple cloud with wide eyes. An image was starting to form. It showed a living picture of an exquisitely decorated chamber, which seemed strangely familiar. A man was lying in the bed, sleeping, but he was squirming and thrashing all the while. Hector recognized him.

"Paris?" he said in astonishment.

Lena nodded. "That's right. You forget about the ring, Hector. After Briseis was captured the first time, I sent Nikos to find a better place for it. And what place would be better than in the chamber of your sweet and ignorant brother."

Hector shuddered as he watched the image of his sleeping brother. It seemed so amazingly real; that he could hardly believe his own eyes.

Lena bent over the kettle. In a soft, slow voice, she began to whisper. "Paris... Paris..."

Paris squirmed even more, like he was attempting to get away from something. "No... No..."

"Oh yes," Lena answered. "It is no use to deny it."

Paris shook his dark head fiercely. "Hector is gone... He is gone and I can't..."

"Your brother is not gone," Lena said comfortingly. "He is with you and watching you."

"No, no," Paris almost sobbed. "He is gone, but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter..."

"Of course it does. Just open your eyes and see for yourself."

Paris opened his eyes wide, like a newborn babe. He sat up in his bed. Suddenly he stared right at Hector. Their eyes locked and the prince felt a shiver down his spine as he realized that his brother could see him; just as he could see him.

"Hector?" Paris said slowly and in complete amazement.

"Paris," he whispered back.

"I told you he was there, didn't I Paris," Lena's smooth voice continued. "And now you have your chance. What are you waiting for?"

Violently, Paris shook his head.

"You are disappointed of course?" Lena sighed. "I should have known. It is never very nice to know that your rival is still there to haunt you."

_Rival? _Hector frowned in complete bewilderment. What was she talking about?

"No," Paris said again, louder. "No, it's not true."

"Yes it is. You know it is. Why do you keep lying?"

"I am not lying!" Paris roared.

"It is eating you up from inside, isn't it? There is only one way to get rid of it. You have to let it out."

"Never!" Paris spat. "I will never..."

Lena nodded. "Oh yes, you will. Sooner or later you'll be forced to. That is the only way you will be able to keep your sanity. Be honest with yourself, Paris and stop lying to everyone around you. Confess."

"There is nothing to confess!" Paris was standing in the middle of his room, dressed in his nightshirt and screamed loud enough to wake his servants.

"Artemis sees everything, my prince. You can't hide anything from her. She sees the torment that you carry inside. She sees the feelings that is torturing your soul ad your conscience. It doesn't matter that he is your brother, does it?"

Paris lashed out, trying to punch his invisible enemy with desperate strength. "Lies! It's all lies!" But his fist only hit through the air and he lost his balance and fell to the floor. Hysterically, he covered his ears, trying to shut the voice and the sights out.

Lena lowered her voice. "This is your last opportunity, Paris. Are you going to be a man and tell us the truth?"

Paris body was shaking and his voice was choked. "No... No, I can't!"

Lena sighed. "Very well. Then we shall simply have to see for ourselves." She raised her voice and said some new incomprehensible words. The image inside the smoke started to change. Hector stared intently at it. Suddenly, he felt like he was inside his brother's mind; like he could read his thoughts and emotions. He could even be inside every hidden corner of his memory...

* * *

_I am so glad this stupid journey is finally over, Paris thought grimly as he rode his horse along the beach with the men he had brought with him from Troy by his side. Finally, they had reached the shores of Thebe and the endless sea voyage had finally come to an end. Paris loathed boats, which might be a result of the fact he always suffered from sea-sickness. He had lost a lot of weight during the weeks at sea and much to his despair, his body wasn't as fine and lithe as it usually was. _

_They were heading for the city now and they would finally have some space to breathe, even if it meant that he and his party would be forced to sit with the pathetic little king of this realm. Not to mention his dull brood, including Hector's future wife with her horse face. He shuddered as he imagined how he would have to endure her company on his way back to Troy. As if a sea journey wasn't tedious enough as it was. _

_But that could wait. Now all he wanted was something to eat and drink and get some sleep in a real bed. His back hurt after the many nights on the hard bunk in his cabin. He was sick of it all. He longed for the sort of accommodations which was befitting for a prince. Soft linen sheets, pillows of silk and perhaps even some pleasant company... _

_As they drove their horses upside a mountain hill, a rider suddenly approached them in a quick gallop. King Eetion was eager to receive them well, Paris noted approvingly. He hoped that this lad would tell them that it wasn't more than ten minutes at most left to ride. He was starting to feel saddle sore. _

_However, Paris was surprised when the rider came closer and he realized that it was a woman who was sitting in the saddle and quite a comely one at that. She was tall and slender with dark hair that fell down her back in a tight braid. She wore a simple, green riding suit which fitted her perfectly. She held her horse in with expert preciseness, sending a cloud of dust spurting over the Trojan party. _

"_I am very sorry, my lords," she quickly apologized. "I hope I didn't ruin your clothing." _

_Paris looked curiously at her. "I am guessing you have been sent by King Eetion to receive us."_

_She nodded. "That is correct, my lord. I am..."_

"_Good," Paris said and flashed her his most charming smile. "I am pleased that the King of Thebe has sent us such a lovely welcoming committee. You may spurt as much dust over me as you like, my dear."_

_The young woman raised her eyebrows, but she didn't seem embarrassed. "Oh? And I suppose you are..."_

"_Prince Paris of Troy, youngest son of the noble King Priam," Paris nodded, placing a great emphasis on his title. He wanted this woman to be well aware of his high rank. "And I suppose you will tell me that the city of Thebe is just around the next corner?"_

"_I am sorry, my lord," she said politely, "but we have got at least an hour left to ride."_

_Paris sighed dramatically. "That is just my usual bad luck. After two weeks at sea you would think I would finally have some peace, but all I get is several hours stuck on horseback and a seriously skin flayed rear. The gods must have cursed me." He shook his head and smiled knowingly at her. "But at least it seems that I will enjoy some pleasant company on the way. Don't you agree?"_

_She nodded. "Oh yes, my lord. I don't know any better." She leaned forward and patted her horse's neck. "He always keeps quiet and listens to what a woman has to say. There are not many men who can do that, you know. Usually, they are just too fond of listening to their own voices."_

_Her reply was quick and innocent and Paris couldn't help laughing. The woman smiled sweetly as she gathered her reins. "This way, my lords." _

_Paris found that he could endure the ride surprisingly well after all. He had to admit that this country was beautiful and it was rather thrilling to bee on his own in this foreign place. He had not had a chance to see much of the world outside Troy before. And above all, he was pleased with his escort. _

_He glanced at the young woman who was riding by his side. After the long weeks on the ship without a single female individual in sight, she seemed almost exotic to his eyes. Any woman would have been, no matter how plain or fat or tedious she was. But it was something special about this wench, he had to admit. _

_She didn't resemble the sweet-looking girls he usually fancied very much. She was too tall and too thin; almost boyish in her appearance. Still, she was undoubtedly handsome and seemed to have an attractive personality. Her wit had surprised him and there was something challenging in her ways that excited him. Paris smiled to himself. If things turned out the way he wanted them, he would put her in his bed before the end of this day. And of course, he always got what he wanted. _

_He turned towards her, intending to start a conversation. "Are you a Theban from birth?" _

_She nodded. "Yes, my lord. I have lived here all my life." _

"_And how old are you?"_

"_Nineteen, my lord."_

"_Really? I am seventeen," Paris informed her. Then he lowered his voice and added roguishly. "But don't worry; I have got nothing against older women."_

_The young woman raised her eyebrows, but she didn't answer. Paris laughed silently to himself. "And who are you living with? I cannot believe that such a charming young lady such as yourself is still unmarried."_

_She smiled. "Well, I am, my lord. I live with my parents and the rest of my family."_

"_Indeed?" Paris said, interested. Then he lowered his voice once again. "And tell me, my sweet; does your father sleep heavily at night?"_

_The young woman's face was completely innocent. "Yes, he does. As a matter of fact, he is snoring terribly. Just ask my poor mother."_

_Paris chuckled in delight. "I am so sorry to hear it. And where do you live?"_

"_Why do you want to know that?" _

_So she was trying to play hard to get, Paris thought in amusement. Well, it didn't matter. He was an expert hunter... "Oh, I just thought I would come by and... admire your lovely backside... oh forgive me, I mean backyard of course." He grinned at her, quite satisfied with his own sense of humour._

_A blush appeared on the girl's cheeks, much to Paris contentment. She bit her lip, like she was trying to keep her own feelings in check. "My father is a very hospitable man, my lord, as I am sure you'll learn." Then she urged her horse forward and he quickened his steps._

"_Well, I just hope it runs in the family," Paris mumbled, smirking as he followed her. _

_The city of Thebe was much greater than he had expected and even though he knew that it was in no way comparable to his own birthplace, he couldn't help feeling impressed. He followed the young woman who obviously knew the town well. She led the way towards the palace, which was placed in the town's centre. A mass of people were gathered by the gates._

_By the stairs downside the palace, a tall man was standing. The years had created grey streaks in his dark hair, but he still looked surprisingly young. Paris realized that this had to be king Eetion. Seven well-built and sturdy young men were standing further up on the steps. His whelp sons, Paris guessed and the rest of the family seemed to be waiting right behind them._

_The young woman dismounted her horse and approached the king. Much to Paris' surprise, she didn't bow to him nor did she make any gesture of reverence. Instead, she tenderly kissed his cheek and leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Paris frowned. What was this? Was that girl the king's concubine? Damn it. He certainly didn't want to share her with his host. _

_The king of Thebe approached the prince, smiling graciously. "My young prince," he said. "I am very pleased to welcome you to my country."_

_Paris got his act together and quickly bowed. "Thank you, my lord. I am truly happy to be here."_

"_Your noble father has sent you here in friendship to seal an important bond between our countries," the king continued. "My house is open to you." He made a gesture towards the palace and Paris bowed again. _

"_Allow me to introduce my sons," Eetion said and the seven boys all bowed for the Trojan prince. Paris nodded and greeted them politely, as he did the king's wife; a beautiful lady in her early fifties. _

"_And you have already met my daughter, Andromache..."_

_At first, Paris didn't know who the king was referring to. Then he realized that he was indicating the young woman who had escorted him to the palace. She smiled amiably and curtsied. "A pleasure, my lord."_

_In less than a second, Paris face became as pale as a ghost's. For a moment, he felt like he was going to faint. It couldn't be... he tried to tell himself. She would have told him... But then he realized that he had never given her a chance to._

_Good gods, that pretty young wench was the Princess of Thebe! She was that horse faced woman that poor Hector would be forced to marry! Paris swallowed tightly as he remembered all of the blatant invitations he had given her on their way. He had practically tried to seduce her from the first moment they had met._

_And what if she was going to tell her father about it? Paris shuddered by the thought. No king would appreciate that a man was making inappropriate advances towards his daughter. King Eetion might have him thrown into one of the dungeons or worse, lead him to the execution block at once. This could be a disaster both for himself and for the relations between Thebe and Troy. _

_But then he suddenly apprehended the look in the young Princess' face. She didn't seem scandalized or offended. She didn't even seem upset. Her eyes were full of amusement and they sparkled teasingly against him. The smile on her face was knowing and he realized that she wasn't going to tell her father. She had enjoyed this experience and she took pleasure in seeing the shock in his face._

_The relief inside Paris exploded and suddenly he started laughing. He just couldn't stop himself. She laughed too, with warmth and good nature. King Eetion and the others had no idea what was going on but they joined them in their laughter as well. They didn't seem to mind sharing a joke together._

_Paris looked at the princess with fascination. He couldn't remember having ever laughed like that with a woman before... _

* * *

The image began to fade and Paris' chamber became visible inside the smoke again. He was still lying on the floor, sobbing pitifully as he tried to cover his ears and his eyes to block the memory from his mind. 

"Well, Paris?" Lena's soft, sly voice asked him. "Aren't you going to tell us what we want to know?"

Paris just shook his head, spasmodically.

"The truth is already out there so what does it matter? There is nothing left to hide. Come now, Paris. Ease your conscience and let us all know. If you don't, you know it will kill you."

"Yes!" Paris slammed his fists against the floor furiously. "Yes, it's true! I wish it wasn't but it is! I wanted her. I desired her. I _loved _her! I thought about running away with her. And I _wish _I had! But I couldn't! I couldn't, because he is my brother!"

He continued his rambling, but Hector barely heard him. He was mute with shock. He remembered Paris' peculiar and absent behaviour ever since he returned from Thebe. Why had he not seen it? Paris had clearly been infatuated with Andromache. He shook his head in amazement. Paris had never cared much for any woman in particular. He loved to be around girls, but he usually tired of them after a week at most and went on to the next. But this was different.

And Andromache? He asked himself. Did she have feelings for him too? _How would I know? _He asked himself grimly. The truth was that he had not been able to see what was going on between Paris and Andromache because he had been too busy dwelling upon his own misery.

And what would this mean? He asked in horror as he remembered Lena's presence. By now, he knew her well enough to realize that she was somehow going to use this to her own advantage.

Lena's soft voice hushed Paris and she started talking comfortingly. "It is really not as bad as you think. There is a way out of this."

"No there's not! He is my brother! I can never have her!"

"Wrong, Paris," Lena objected gracefully. "You can have her. Just open your eyes." In surprise, Paris did what she told him. "What do you see?" Lena asked him.

Paris sighed. "I see my brother."

"That's right. And look at the wall. What do you see there?"

Paris slowly turned his eyes towards the wall in his chamber. Hector's throat suddenly felt constricted. A very special gift that their father had given Paris on his sixteenth birthday was hanging on the wall. It was a massive sword with a golden shaft, decorated with Paris' name. Hector's whole body became icy as it slowly dawned upon him what Lena had in mind.

"You know what you have to do, Paris," she said seriously. "Take the sword down."

Paris shook his head, dazed. "I couldn't..."

"Take it!" she spat.

Paris swallowed, but stood up and slowly went to the other side of the room. Carefully, he lifted the sword down. He stared down at the blade for a while. Then he raised his eyes again, towards his brother.

"You can do it, Paris," Lena urged him. "Remember, just one strike and she will be yours. He is the only thing that is standing in your way."

"Paris, _no," _Hector whispered throatily.

Paris shook his head. "I can't..."

"Yes you can. You'll be saving your own life as well as hers. I promise I'll spare you both. You can go back to Thebe and live there happily together for the rest of your lives. Just you and your fair princess."

Paris shook his head again, but still moved a few steps closer to the helpless Hector. "He is my brother..." he said in a choked voice.

"He'll die anyway. You'll be doing him a great kindness."

"Don't listen to her, Paris!"

Paris raised the sword slightly. He was still in his chamber and Hector was in the cave, but they were still somehow connected.

"Go on," Lena tempted him. "Just one strike and Andromache will be yours."

"Paris, don't!" Hector shouted. He desperately tried to get away, but he was still unable to move. The spell still held him prisoner. "Don't do it!"

Paris raised his sword higher. His face was paler than death. "I want her," he whispered. And he lashed out to give his brother the deadly blow. Hector closed his eyes tightly. He was going to be killed – by his own brother.

But when Paris struck, he found no target. He stumbled as his sword hit the air and fell to the floor once again. Even if the brother's could see each other, they couldn't reach out to each other. Paris collapsed on the floor and his entire body was shaking with shock and grief.

Slowly the image faded. The smoke was purple again and the only sound that could be heard in the cave was Lena's amused chuckle. "I almost feel sorry for your poor foolish brother. He will always wonder if it was just a very bad nightmare.

"What did you do?" Hector hissed. "What was that? Was it just an illusion?"

"An illusion, yes, you can say that. It is powerful, but usually blocks the human touch from its reality. However, if your will is strong enough you can sometimes overcome that border." She shrugged. "It is too bad that your little brother is such a weakling. He would have done both you and himself a great favour."

Sounds could suddenly be heard from outside the cell. Nikos' voice rose over the others. "My lady, we managed to capture her! We have the girl!"

Lena turned back to Hector, smiling sweetly. "Artemis has been waiting long enough. It is time we start preparing for her, don't you think?"

* * *

**Author's note: **Ok, if nothing unexpected occurs, it will be grand finale next time. I must warn you that it might take me some time though. Apart from being covered with school stuff, I am also planning to finally post a one shot story that I have been working on for quite a while. I appreciate your patience. 


	15. Chapter 14 The powers cross

**Priestess of the myrmidons: **Yes, but Lena wants to rule and she wouldn't be allowed to if she married Hector. On top of that, she also a bit of a man hater so I doubt that she would want to marry anyone (And of course, in a Freudian theory, this might be because she feels that her father has rejected her).

**Hector/Andromachefan: **Thank you for reviewing. Yes, like I have stated before, I think we have a reason to fear for Lena's mental health. Hector is basically a tool to get closer to the power for her. As for Paris and Andromache, please look at my answers to Queen Arwen and Lilycup.

**Gaby: **Lena really isn't popular among you guys, is she? Lol, that's good because she is not supposed to be. In this chapter you will find that not only Paris but also Andromache and Hector will have a reason to evaluate their feelings.

**Queen Arwen: **I wouldn't take Paris' feelings very seriously. Remember that he is young and unlike Andromache, he isn't very mature. He has got a crush and in his naivety, he has blown it out of proportion. If you want to torture Lena, I think you have to stand in line...

**Hecuba2: **Your words make me very happy, since I have always liked this mythical sorcery stuff you are talking about and that's why I added it in the story. As for the sequel; well, I don't think so, but thank you for your suggestion. I do have some inspiration for another story though, so I'll see if I can develop it within the next few weeks.

**Lilycup: **Nice to know that you liked Paris and Andromache's meeting. To be honest, this was something I hadn't originally planned. But since I felt that these two couldn't just go lolling about in the palace when they came back from Thebe, I added this little twist. And like you said, Hector really wasn't paying poor Andromache a lot of attention.

* * *

**A/N: **It took me even longer than I expected to get the last chapter done, but I hope that it will prove worth the waiting. Rather than finishing it later, I decided to publish the epilogue along with the final chapter. I just felt that they should be read at the same time.

I have taken a great pleasure in writing this story and one of the reasons have been the encouraging and dedicated reviews I have received. With all my heart, I thank you. Enjoy the last chapter and don't forget the epilogue!

**Chapter 14 – The powers cross**

Two men bent down and pulled him up to his feet. They started to lead him through the dark passages in the cave. Hector hung limply between them, unable to resist. The spell was still on him and he could do nothing to remove it.

Hector squinted as he caught sight of a flash of light somewhere in front of him. As they approached, he realized that it was a torch. Lena was standing there, waiting with her arms crossed and an utterly contented look on her face. Nikos stood next to her. Hector noticed that he seemed to have been scratched in the face. The man held a young girl firmly by the arm.

"Briseis," Hector gasped. In vain, he attempted to break free from his captors, but they held on tightly to him. The effort turned his face read and he panted heavily. _Curse that spell! _He thought violently.

Briseis had been looking frightened and confused, but when she recognized her cousin, her eyes grew wide. She wanted to go to him, but Nikos held her back. "No, you are not," he said grimly. "Not again."

But Lena waved indifferently at him. "Oh, by all means, give them a moment together if they like. It is not as if they will have many more..."

Nikos looked reluctant but let go of his hold on Briseis. She ran up to Hector and worriedly grabbed his hand. "Hector? What is wrong? You look like you can't walk."

"Oh, I can walk," Hector said, doing his best to seem reassuring. "This is just temporary."

Briseis glanced over her shoulder. "But what is going on here? What are they doing?"

"Unpleasant things, I am afraid," he said grimly. "Are you all right, Briseis? They didn't harm you?"

She shook her head. "No, but I..." She glanced at Nikos and Lena. "I think theyare _going _to hurt us," she said in a small voice.

"What a sharp mind," Lena purred in amusement. "My dear girl, if only your blood wasn't soiled I might consider taking you in as my pupil."

Briseis frowned in confusion. "Lena," she said hesitatingly. "Why are you hurting, Hector? He hasn't done anything wrong. He is a good man."

"A servant of the great Artemis must make some sacrifices."

"Artemis?" Briseis looked confused and shook her head. "These are not the ways of the goddess."

Lena snorted. "Oh and who has told you that? Your uncle the king perhaps? You have better not listen so much to the foolish ideas a simple male mind can devise. Artemis is the goddess of vengeance, didn't you know that?"

"You are not the goddess," Briseis pointed out.

In a superior gesture, Lena crossed her arms. "That is true. I am not. But I am her servant and I have inherited the powerful blood of a priestess whose capacity you cannot possibly imagine."

Briseis held her eyes. "A true priestess doesn't lay emphasis on the blood of her veins to show her worthiness," she said seriously. "Only the blood of her heart."

For a moment, Lena was speechless. Then a flash suddenly appeared in her eyes. "I didn't come here to be lectured about the values of a priestess by some inane girl child," she said resolutely. She nodded sharply at her men. "Get them both inside the hall."

* * *

As Briseis and Hector were dragged into the chamber, everything first seemed completely dark. It wasn't until they had taken a few steps further that Hector could make out a ray of light. They were still in the caves, but this space had been decorated like in a temple.

Golden bowls of reddish incense were placed on high pillars that were positioned in a square which surrounded the altar. In front of it, a huge statue of Artemis had been placed. In her hands, she carried a bow and a pickaxe, symbols for her position as the goddess of hunting and the goddess of harvesting. On the altar, a stack of firewood had been placed.

Lena slowly bowed before the statue. "Artemis," she said loudly. "Daughter of mighty Zeus and Leto; protector of woman, goddess of nature and moon, killer of Orion the treacherous hunter, let me sense your presence."

She was silent for a while, closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "Yes," she whispered with a dreamy smile on her lips. "Oh, yes..."

She opened her eyes again. "You have blessed me with your spirit and with your magic. It has been passed to me from my mother, the great Philippa, as I know that I shall pass it to my own child."

Lena closed her fists tightly. "I owe my powers to you my lady and I bow down in gratitude for them. Know that I live only to serve you."

Slowly she reached her hands up towards the statue. "Artemis, goddess of hunting and of harvesting; show me that you hear my words. Show yourself to me, your servant and exerciser of your magic. Let us all feel your presence in this hall!"

Nothing could be heard and nothing could be seen, but suddenly and completely unexpectedly; an unfamiliar wind swept through the cave. Hector shuddered. He had been visiting the temples many times before, but he had never experienced anything like this. It was as if he could feel the presence of the goddess touching him.

"Oh, mighty Artemis," Lena hissed. "Give me a sign."

As she said it, the incense suddenly went from red to yellow.

"You lead the way and I follow," Lena said. "I know that I must prepare for a great trial and a great battle as I take what rightfully belongs to me, but I know that I can count on you to aid me. The strength of your hand shall see me through every test."

"For this support," she continued. "I will give you a reward that will make up for all of your efforts. I shall reward you in blood." She smiled slowly. "Please accept my humble sacrifice."

She turned around and faced her lackeys and her prisoners. Gazing thoughtfully at them for a moment, she finally nodded at Briseis. "The girl first."

"No!" In desperation, Hector tried to get away from his captors. He defied the spell and fought them, squirming and lashing out at them, but he was powerless. They firmly stopped him by punching him in the gut. He groaned and almost fell to the ground.

Frantically, he watched as Nikos dragged his little cousin towards the altar. Briseis kicked out and tried to bite him, but it had no effect. She was placed on the firewood and her hands were bound and pinned to the altar.

"No," Hector moaned. "Lena, please..."

But she didn't even hear him. She calmly turned towards Briseis and smiled sweetly towards the petrified child. "Don't worry," she said. "The goddess will not be pitiless. Not even to a traitor's spawn."

She turned towards the statue again and raised her hands. "I am Lena," she said. "The one true queen and regent of Troy. In my quest to save my people, nothing shall make me quiver. I shall bear what no one else has borne before; I shall fight like no one else has fought. And anyone who opposes me is my enemy as well as an enemy of Troy and will be dealt with as such."

She bowed. "This girl is my sacrifice to you, my goddess. As her life burns you shall know that her spirit is yours. And I shall know that you will stand by my side forever."

She reached her hands towards Briseis. "Artemis," she whispered. "Give me proof that you have accepted my offer and granted me my powers. Bring fire to my hands and make me able to ignite the sacrifice I present before you!"

She closed her eyes and waved her hands in front of her, like she was searching for the power she was trying to bring out.

Hector held his breath; expecting to see Briseis burning at any time. He could already hear her crying out in fear and pain as the flames reached her delicate skin. He could hear her shrieking in agony as her body caught fire.

But strangely enough, nothing happened.

Lena looked incredulous as she realized that no fire had been brought to her hands. She tried a second time. "Artemis, great goddess; hear my call! Give me the power and accept my sacrifice!"

Once again, no flames appeared on her fingertips.

Lena frowned. "Artemis, I implore you, my wise and brave goddess!" But everything was quiet and suddenly and abruptly, the incense died.

Lena's eyes went wide and her body suddenly started shivering. Slowly she started backing towards the wall, holding her hand pressed against her throat. "No... no, it can't be... It can't be... You promised me... I have the powers..."

Hector didn't know why, but suddenly he felt the effects of the spell decreasing. He was suddenly able to break free of his captors. They barely seemed to notice. They all stared in shock at their mistress who almost seemed choked.

Pressed up against the wall, she stared at Briseis who was still tied to the altar. Her blue eyes looked huge. "Why... why... She is a traitor... why?"

Briseis looked closely at Lena. Something was burning in her eyes. "The gods do not condone kin slaying, Lena."

"Kin slaying?" Lena shook her head. "No, she would be lenient... she told me... It doesn't matter that he is my brother. I would save thousands of Trojan lives!"

Briseis shook her head. Her voice was strangely distant. She was speaking but she wasn't really there. "I wasn't talking about Hector. Do you really think that Artemis would send flames to kill her own twin brother?"

Lena's face went ghostly white. Her powers and her strength had left her body. Mutely, she shook her head. "No... no, it's not possible... It's _not _possible. Her father was Greek! A damned _Greek!" _She cannot possibly have... Not Apollo... Not a Greek...

Hector had untied Briseis and no one made any attempt to stop him. The little girl rose from the altar. Her magnetic eyes were set on Lena who was huddled up by the wall, staring at her like a ghost. "It's here, Lena," she said calmly. "You feel it too. You can't deny it."

Lena spoke slowly and intensely, as if she was trying to convince herself. "She can't be... The spawn of a Greek and a traitor... She can't have it. _She can't have the power!" _

Hector stood behind Briseis and put his hands on her shoulders. "You have failed Lena," he said grimly. "Face it."'

There was a blaze in her eyes and suddenly, she managed to get to her feet. Her face was glowing with fury and disappointment. "Oh, you think so? Well, I don't need Artemis to take care of a weak man and a girl. "Finish them," she ordered her men and pointed firmly at Hector and Briseis.

"But, my lady..." Nikos started unsurely.

"What are you waiting for?" she cried. "Obey my command! Kill them both!"

The men still looked hesitating, but pulled out their weapons and approached Hector and his cousin.

"Hide behind the altar, Briseis!" Hector shouted as he quickly moved towards Lena. The spell was off him now and her powers seemed to have been taken away from her. If he could only get to her first and take her as his hostage, the men would be forced to do what he told them.

But before he had made it across the floor, they all suddenly heard a loud noise outside the temple chamber. It almost seemed like the sound of an enormous heard of kettle. The men stopped and listened in astonishment, but before anyone had a chance to react, the door was suddenly kicked open.

A tall, powerful man with a bushy beard entered with his sword and shield firmly at hand. Hector immediately recognized him. It was his father's General Glaucus and behind him came his friend Tecton and the rest of the apollonians.

"Prince Hector!" the General bellowed as he spotted the king's son. "Are you all right, my lord?"

"I am and so is Briseis," Hector answered and gestured at Nikos and the others. "I want these men arrested."

"At once, my prince," the General said and turned towards Nikos, who he obviously took for the leader of the group. "You are hopelessly outmanned. Give up."

Nikos hesitated and glanced towards Lena, who was still leaning towards the wall. But the fire in her eyes was still burning. "Don't listen to him," she spat. "Attack them!"

"But my lady..."

"Are you just going to let them take you without any resistance? What kind of a man are you?" she badgered him while she pulled her small dagger from her belt. Nikos still hesitated, but her command left no room for arguments. "Do as I say. Charge them!"

Suddenly there was a wild and desperate fight going on in the temple cave. Lena's men were desperately trying to defend themselves against the overwhelming force of armed and armoured apollonian warriors. General Glaucus was old, but still a formidable warrior and he used his sword like it was a part of him when he disarmed and killed one of the opponents.

He quickly bent down, picking up the sword and throwing it to Hector who was able to take part in the battle. Without hesitation, he attacked the nearest man who happened to be Nikos. There was a clang as their swords kissed and they continued to circulate around each other, looking for weaknesses

The blood seemed to be singing in Hector's veins. It was lovely to feel the strength of his body once again after having been numb and powerless for so long. He never felt more alive than he did when he was fighting. The sensation of being a free man with a sword in his hand almost made him dizzy.

Over Nikos shoulder, he suddenly spotted Lena. She was approaching Tecton with the dagger in her hand. Tecton's back was against her while he was fighting another man. Hector raised his voice and warned him.

Tecton glanced back and in a quick movement, he kicked his opponent away, which temporarily distracted him. Then he spun and hit Lena hard before she could stab him. She fell to the floor and rolled.

Hector finally had Nikos on his mercy. The thick man had been pressed up against the wall and Hector pressed the tip of his sword against his throat. "Do you remember the whip?" he hissed. "Allow me to return the courtesy." He quickly turned his sword and struck him hard across the face with the flat side of his sword. Nikos fell to the ground, knocked unconscious and Hector finished him easily.

The battle was finished. The apollonians had been victorious and the opponents who were still breathing had surrendered. Hector was staring grimly at the fallen Nikos for a while before he turned.

"My lord," Glaucus said. He nodded towards Lena who had huddled up in a corner. Tecton's hit had not knocked her out, but she looked dizzy and disoriented. "Should I...?" Glaucus asked.

Hector shook his head. "Wait." Slowly, he approached her and she pulled back, like she was trying to pierce through the wall. "Lena," he said seriously.

It took some time before she raised her head. The beauty of her features and her striking eyes hit him just like they had the first time he met her. But apart from that, she was nothing like she had been then. Her face was glowing with an immense hatred.

"It is over," Hector told her. "Your men are defeated and your powers have left you. It is over, Lena. Surrender and I will make sure that your life is spared."

A smile started to play on her lips and she scoffed loudly.

Hector's eyes narrowed. "I won't give you another offer. Surrender now."

She laughed, bitterly, almost hysterically. "Surrender," she spat as if the word was an abomination. "A daughter of Artemis never surrenders."

And Hector suddenly realized that she still clutched the small dagger in her hand. Before he could react, she raised it and ran it right through her chest. She coughed, choked and slowly fell towards the floor.

Hector slowly crouched down beside her gently pulled the dagger out of her chest. Her blue eyes followed him as her life blood slowly ran out of her. "You think you have won, don't you?" she hissed with the use of her remaining powers. "Well, you are wrong. You have just ensured the doom of Troy." She coughed and snorted. "My only comfort is that it will be your doom as well – and not only yours."

A sneer appeared in her pain-ravaged face that twisted her fair features. "My son would have brought your blood on," she whispered. "But now it is too late. My father's line will die with you. Your wife will have your child, yes, but you will not have him for long." Despite her pains, her voice was shrill with triumph. "After you have been killed, your people will be trapped inside the castle of Troy. Your son will be flung from the walls to his death and your wife will be taken as a slave... I curse you with this knowledge, Prince Hector, now and forever..."

Her voice had grown weaker and weaker as she spoke and now her head fell back to the ground and her body relaxed. She had ceased breathing. Hector looked mutely at her; this woman who was his sister. This woman who had fooled him into a trap and who had almost been able to take everything from him. This woman who had carried his child and who had chosen to end her own life as well as the child's rather than live her life in shame and defeat.

He carefully closed her eyes and rose from the floor. General Glaucus waited respectfully in silence until the prince turned towards him. "How did you find this place?" he asked.

"Your horse," Glaucus explained. "He came back to the palace alone, but there was a note in the saddle bag. After a few investigations we found out that some fishermen had seen this Lena woman and her men down the beach."

"But who...?" Hector started until he realized. "Briseis," he breathed. She must have found the horse when she escaped from Nikos. But she had not been able to get back to the palace so she had written a message instead and sent him back. "I understand," he said slowly.

"What should we do with the bodies, my lord?" Tecton asked.

Hector glanced grimly at the dead men and woman. "Take them outside and burn them. And once we are all out of here, I want you to fill up this accursed place."

Glaucus and Tecton went to carry out his orders. Hector stood and stared grimly at the statue of Artemis for a moment. Then he suddenly heard a sound from behind the altar. Briseis crawled out, shivering and scared with her chest brown hair hanging in a mess from her braids.

"Hector," she said in a weak voice.

"Yes," Hector said and helped her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

"I think so," she mumbled. As she looked around in the hall, her eyes grew wide. "What happened?" she asked him.

"Unpleasant things, just like I told you," Hector said, smiling wearily.

Briseis spotted Lena's dead body and her face paled. She didn't seem to know or remember exactly what had taken place or which part she had played. "Did I... did I do something wrong, Hector?" she asked him carefully.

Hector crouched down before her and gently stroked her cheek. "No, you didn't," he assured her. "You did everything right."

He placed his arms around her and embraced her tightly. Her thin arms encircled his neck and he felt her tiny form trembling. She seemed so delicate. It was truly amazing that such a small shape could hold such amazing powers...

* * *

"So you filled the passage to the cave with earth then," Priam stated.

"I did, father," Hector nodded. "I never wanted anyone to set a foot in that ghastly place again."

"A wise decision," Priam said. Then his voice hardened. "And according to Glaucus, the reason behind all of this misery has been rendered harmless?"

Hector nodded.

"This woman, Lena... Is it true that she is really dead?"

"She is," Hector confirmed. "She took her own life."

"I don't understand what she was trying to accomplish..." Priam was quiet for a while. "Hector, is there something more you want to tell me about her?"

Hector raised his head and looked into his father's blue eyes. He wondered how much Priam had guessed and how much he suspected. Did he remember anything of that unknown woman he had shared his nights with so long ago?

"No," he finally said. "There is nothing."

* * *

"Remember, I don't want any turns," Hector reminded the giant builder who was in charge of the work team. "I want it to go straight all the way until it reaches the river by Mount Ida."

"I understand, my lord," the man said and waved at his comrades. They all took their hacks and shovels and followed him through the narrow hole.

They were standing in one of the deepest cellars in the palace. This was the place Hector had selected after a lot of consideration. Grimly, he watched as the men crawled inside the hole to continue their work. Soon, the rhythmic sounds of hacks hitting stone could be heard.

Hector flatly listened to their work. He knew that this wasn't something that could be finished in a week. Building a tunnel all the way to Mount Ida would likely take several months, maybe even longer. And he didn't know how much time he had.

But still, he knew that he had to do _something. _In his mind, he could still hear Lena's ill-fated last words. Well, if she thought he was going to sit down and do nothing, she was wrong. If her words were really true, he was going to prepare for it. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that her prophecy wouldn't come true. Building this tunnel was only a part of his resolve, but it was important. It would give him an opportunity to protect his kin. At least it would make sure that they wouldn't be trapped.

Sighing, he turned away from the working men and started to ascend the stairs. He didn't want to tell anyone about his work. Not yet at least. It would remain a secret until he had decided who he could confide it in.

When he reached the landing, she was waiting for him. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her face was serious and determined. Her skin was pale, but she looked at him calmly. "I heard you were back."

He nodded, since he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Are you all right?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "More or less. Though it is hardly because of my own wisdom. I can thank my cousin for the fact that I am still alive."

"I have talked to Briseis. She says you were very brave."

He smiled ironically. "She is too polite."

They were quiet for a while and assessed each other slowly. Hector looked closely at her. As always, she stood straight and held her head high. No one could take her dignity away from her. There was not a hint of movement in her face. Nothing displayed the storm of emotions that he knew had to take place inside her.

He had not had time to think much about it since he returned to the palace. Paris had greeted him first of all by the gate and embraced him hard, like he was never going to let go. "Brother," he had said, his voice throaty. "I am so glad you are back safe."

His voice was genuine and Hector had realized that Lena had been right. To Paris, the experience when he tried to kill his brother would forever seem like a surreal and awful nightmare. Hopefully, he would forget all about it. Hector knew that he wouldn't though. Even though he had found the ring hidden under Paris' bed and firmly thrown it into the sea, he knew that he would never be able to erase what had happened. Especially not when he looked into the eyes of the young woman who was standing in front of him.

"Paris is in love with you," he stated unceremoniously.

Andromache's eyes remained calm and she still held his gaze. "Yes," she said simply.

"Are you in love with him?"

She slowly shook her head.

"But you would rather marry him, wouldn't you?" he said.

"I am going to marry you, my lord," she said firmly.

"That is not what I asked," Hector reminded her.

"I know," she nodded. "But that is the only answer I have to give."

Hector sighed and crossed his arms. "I love my brother, my lady. But there are certain things I wouldn't wish to share with him."

Colour rose to her cheeks. "You think too little of your brother, my lord, if you suppose that he would cuckold you behind your back." She pulled a deep breath and looked harshly at him. "And of me also."

Her eyes left no room for hesitations. Hector nodded slowly. "I apologize," he said. "You are right; I did you both wrong by suspecting something like that." He sighed and pulled his hand through his tousled hair. "I want you to know that I appreciate your honesty," he told her. "Especially after what I have been through these last few weeks..."

She nodded. "Yes, I have heard."

"You have heard?" He stared at her in astonishment.

She smiled mildly. "Your mother has told me."

"Oh." Hector cringed. Why was he surprised? He asked himself. Was there anything that escaped his mother's notice? "Well," he said shrugging. "As you can see, I am not the right person to judge."

"Nor am I," she said seriously.

"Well," he said, smiling bleakly. "At least there is one thing we can agree on."

She looked closely at him. "You look weary my lord," she said. "You should get some rest. Let me take you."

Slowly, they started to walk along the corridor together, but the atmosphere between them was strangely relaxed.

"Perhaps you would like to postpone the wedding until you feel better?" Andromache suggested.

"Oh, I am sure I'll recover..." Hector started, but stopped. "When is the wedding supposed to be held?" he asked her in confusion.

She smiled gently. "Tomorrow afternoon, my lord."

"Oh." Hector blinked, but then he shrugged. "Well, I suppose we have better get it over with before the next disaster strikes." He glanced at her. "Do _you _want to postpone it?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It doesn't really matter to me. The wedding is not the important thing. What matters is that you and I must learn how to live together."

Hector nodded. "You are right," he said, reluctantly impressed by her sincerity. "And I am afraid I haven't really done my best to make you warm up to me."

She smiled dryly. "I can't say that I have been making any efforts either, my lord."

"Don't blame yourself," Hector said.

She shrugged and smiled. "Well, we have at least got until tomorrow," she reminded him. "Would you like a cup of wine perhaps?

He returned her smile. "Yes I would like that. And I would also like to know a little bit more about you, Andromache."

"Suppose I will disappoint you," she said, grinning.

He shook his head. "I don't think you ever could," he said honestly.

She laughed as she opened the door to his chamber. Her face was open and relaxed and for the first time since he met her, Hector truly realized that theyoung princesswho was meant to be his wife was a very beautiful woman.

So Paris had fallen in love with her? He mused to himself. Well, some day he might feel the same thing.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Suddenly Hector was able to feel the ship's movements under his feet again and he raised his eyes from the table where they had been set for he did not know how long. He had been so deeply engaged in his memories that he had not been aware of anything. Casually, he reached his arms out and stretched his powerful muscles.

It had probably been a good thing to reflect upon these things, he told himself reluctantly. He deserved to think about it and remember what a young fool he had been back then. He had almost lost everything because of his own stupidity. Yes, it had been a good and useful lesson.

But then why did it still hurt so much?

The thought annoyed him. He poured himself another cup of water and finished it in one single stroke. But it made no difference. He could still feel the pain. And even though he eagerly tried to deny it; he knew where it came from.

_He had not loved her! _He told himself furiously. He really hadn't. What he felt for her had been an illusion that she had created, probably through her magic. It had been false and shallow. He had only been a young and easily affected whelp and his attraction had mainly been physical.

But still, the thoughts of her betrayal and treachery hurt him and it wasn't merely because she had degraded and humiliated her. The fact that he had trusted her so completely still bothered him. And even though she had taken her own life, he couldn't help feeling guilt when he realized that he had more or less caused his own sister's death. Her death as well as his own child's. He didn't know why.

After he had married Andromache, he had realized what it was like to live and truly share your life with someone. With Andromache it was all so different. She was everything Lena had never been. She was his wife and his lover, but she was so much more that that. Andromache was a friend, a companion, a counsellor a confidant. Just like he was for her.

When he married Andromache, Hector had made a vow never to make the same mistake again. And he hadn't. For eight years of marriage, he had been unswervingly faithful to his wife. Not once had he let himself be tempted by another woman. Never would he let his family suffer because he hadn't been able to keep himself under control.

Unfortunately though, he hadn't been able to keep his brother under control.

Hector sighed. He really thought Paris had learned his lesson too. After Hector and Andromache's wedding, his behaviour towards the bride had been exemplary. He had treated her with the affection any man would give his brother's wife, but he had never even looked at her in an inappropriate way.

He had continued his untroubled life with feasts and women, much to their father's disapproval. But at least he hadn't got into some sort of disaster. Not until now.

Once again, he remembered Paris eyes as he said the words on the boat deck. _"I love her," _he had said simply. Hector remembered how he had snorted at his brother's words. Now he realized that he had been wrong. He had never seen that look in his brother's eyes when he talked about a woman before.

He brought to mind her golden hair, her striking eyes and her perfected features. Her unhappiness in her country and with her husband could not have escaped anyone. It wasn't strange that she had attracted the young and hopelessly naive Paris.

_If only she was someone else, _Hector thought violently. _Practically any other woman would have been better than her. Helen of Sparta. Wife of Menelaus; brother of King Agamemnon of Mycenae. _

He moved to stand by the window hole again and looked out as the sun was slowly setting by the horizon. No, he couldn't judge his brother, he realized. Not when he had once made the mistake of falling for the wrong woman himself. Not when he had once risked everything for her sake as well.

He should have understood, he berated himself. He should have realized that if Paris ever met a woman he wanted as much as he had wanted Andromache then he wouldn't let anything stand in his way. Not even a possible war against a superior enemy. Not even the prospect of seeing Troy in flames.

"_I see everything, Hector. One day, there will be enemies sailing against our country. They will strike hard against our city." _He cringed as he remembered Lena's words. So she had been right after all. Not that he had ever really doubted it.

It was done and there was no way back. The enemies would come, sailing towards their shores. And he knew that he was the one who the people would look to for guidance and protection. But would he really have the power to keep Troy safe?

"_You would not be able to defend her. Your life would be taken by a superior enemy and our walls would fall." _He wasn't afraid of death, he told himself. He would gladly die for the sake of his country. What he feared was what would happen once he was gone.

He felt an even stronger pain in his heart as he thought about his family. His mother was gone now, but his father was still there. Priam had aged since the death of his wife. He had lost some of his power to act and relied more and more on the grey bearded old priests and their omens.

His thoughts went to Briseis. She was now a servant of Apollo, the sun god, much to the pride of her uncle. Hector had never told her about what he knew of her father. He thought it best to keep it as a secret. He remembered Lena's cruel way of calling his cousin a traitor and her predictions. He asked himself what this war would mean for her?

But there were two people he worried about more than anyone else. He thought about his wife; her warm smile and her constant support of him. He ached to hold her again. He loved her so much. He cherished her and admired her. As a matter of fact, he had not believed that he could feel more for her, but when she gave birth to their son, he realized that he had been wrong. Astyanax was almost ten months now and a fine and healthy child. Hector knew that he would do anything to protect them both.

"_After you have been killed, your people will be trapped inside the castle of Troy. Your son will be flung from the walls to his death and your wife will be taken as a slave... I curse you with this knowledge, Prince Hector, now and forever..."_

Would this also turn out to be true? He asked himself. Or would they get away through the tunnel he had built? He still hadn't told anyone about it, but he knew that it would probably be time to inform Andromache soon.

Standing in front of the window, Hector realized that what he knew didn't make any difference. He still had to fight and he still would fight. He could only give everything to defend his country against the enemies and defy Lena's curse as best he could.

In his dreams he had already seen the moment he would face the enemy. A tall blonde Greek, possessed with hatred and a desire for vengeance. But it didn't matter. No man or woman could escape his or her destiny. He had already learned that.

**The end**


End file.
